A Storm Is Going To Come
by CileSuns92
Summary: Meredith and Derek are faced with the challenge of living on separate coasts. Meanwhile, a storm is brewing... [Might contain Season 11 spoilers]. Co-written with Nicole aka Paisley Mae.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nicole and I...We wouldn't be co-writing a story if the show was ours. We'd put this stuff on your TV screens ;)**

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><p><strong>Welcome on board!<br>**

**Now, as stated in the summary, this is a story I'm going to co-write with Nicole aka _Paisley Mae_. Honestly, pinpointing who exactly came up with the idea for this is pretty hard, but it all began from a casual back and forth conversation, then snowballed into this. And it's a pretty cool snowball, if you ask me ;) Anyhow, we're having fun, that's for sure, so you know things won't be all fluffy and rainbows and unicorns all the time (we'll bring our shares of unicorns to the plate, don't worry), but keep in mind that there's a purpose for everything.**

**The title is from the Piers Faccini song that was featured on Grey's, so it will be familiar to all of you.**

**Now, I rambled enough for a lifetime, you'll notice in the end that Nicole is a lot more to the point than I am. [Be grateful we balance each other out as writers!]**

**I'm very excited about this, so if you have to crush our spirits, at least do it gracefully!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>A Storm Is Going To Come<strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

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><p>Open the faucet. Set it on cold, ice cold. Splash wateron face. Towel-dry.<p>

These daily steps seem both a mountain to climb and an oasis of solace for Meredith as she stares at her reflection in the mirror of the Attendings' lounge.

She looks like crap, and the water only helps with a little of the exhaustion embedded deep in her bones. Her day is not over yet, and she needs to find some residual energy to drag her body – and the kids – back home.

She doesn't see what's wrong in doing that in her scrubs.

Bailey is not even remotely bothered by the fact that she has decided not to change into regular clothes to take them home.

When she picks him up from the daycare center, he looks like he's about to fall asleep right there as he plays, his mass of curls drooping dangerously closer to the table as she silently watches him play with his buddies.

Bailey turns, and all the tiredness disappears from his eyes, the intense blue sparkling as he half-crawls, half-toddles towards her, still very unsteady.

"Ma!" He grins, looking so much like Derek it hurts. He might be her carbon copy ninety-nine percent of the time, but when he smiles, he's all Derek.

"Hey sweet boy, there you are!" Meredith hopes she's not failing at hiding how tired she is, and that the happiness in seeing her son can mask that.

Bailey is a very oblivious judge of her emotions.

She grabs his jacket and picks him up under his armpits, perching him against her hip as she waves goodbye to the teacher on the other side of the room. Bailey hooks his legs around her midsection, leaning his head against her shoulder, his breath tickling her bare neck.

Meredith stamps a kiss over the messy waves of his hair, then proceeds to retrieve Zola as well from the adjoining room, where they keep the older children.

She barely has time to show up that Zola has already spotted her.

"Mama!" Zola greets her brightly, her smile only dulled by the tiredness of an entire day filled with games. Meredith feels another smile stretch on her lips automatically.

"Hey there, Lovebug." Meredith opens her arm to receive her little body, wraps her around her stomach tightly, closing her eyes at the impact as Zola runs towards her in excitement.

"How was your day?" Meredith asks, breathing in the fading smell of watermelon in Zola's hair and juggling Bailey on her other side.

"So fun, Mama. We goin' home now? I wanna see Daddy."

Meredith sighs. It's late for the kids to still be awake and in need of dinner, since it's already past eight thirty, but she can't deny them that. It's not like they have a strict bedtime schedule anymore when she keeps being pulled into emergencies left and right a few minutes before her shift is supposed to end.

"We'll eat something then we can try to chat with Daddy, alright?"

Zola perks up, running back to grab her backpack from the rack, then goes back again to retrieve the coat she was about to leave there. Meredith smiles at her silly girl, barely minding the little delay.

"Put your jacket on," she encourages, grabbing her backpack and holding it for her, as Zola shimmies into the sleeves of the raincoat.

Meredith ends up carrying the backpack across the street, until they reach the car, Bailey still holding onto her, as Meredith holds Zola's hand together with the car keys. The scene might look slightly comical: with Meredith and her bag, Zola's backpack, a boy on her shoulder and a girl holding onto her. Except she can't let go of her children; she needs them to keep her grounded just as much as she needs some rest right in this moment.

She allows Zola to press the button to open the car doors, and the little girl jumps in her booster seat full of residual excitement. Bailey is a lot more mellow when settling next to his sister, clearly looking more tired.

The ride home is a quiet one, Zola's somewhat coherent recount of her day in preschool as the main source of amusement, together with Bailey's sleepy giggling and babbling as he tries his best to keep up with his sister. Meredith listens, sometimes cracks a smile, sometimes she turns back to watch her children play with one another, and the sense of not doing enough for them fades away for a moment.

She never thought doing it all alone would make her feel so helpless sometimes. Single parents should get gold stars for even waking up in the morning some days.

Her smile dims as they arrive home and she parks the car near their dark porch. They have porch lights with movement sensors, but Derek usually left her a light on when he came home before her.

He's in DC now; it's kind of hard for him to leave a light on.

She sighs, rousing Bailey from his doze and handing Zola her backpack as they all enter the house.

Meredith groans at the sight of her living room. And her kitchen sink. And her house, really.

The only thing that's still in its rightful place are the light fixtures, exactly because they are fixed. To a wall. With bolts.

What once was their safe haven for the mess in their lives is just the reflection of how messy their lives have become.

It's probably three days that she has to do the dishes, and she stopped seeing the point of picking up toys from the floor a long time ago. They can still use paper plates next time they will eat some pasta.

She opens her freezer, finding it bare, save for some mix of chopped onions, celery and carrots that Derek uses when he makes taco meat, and maybe some minced parsley too? She's not sure what that stuff is anyway. The dishes Derek pre-cooked for their survival barely lasted them a week, then Meredith had to get creative with take-out menus, drive-ins or the cafeteria. She regrets not lingering at the hospital a little longer tonight.

She sends Zola to her room to change into her pajamas, settles Bailey in the living room, then opens the fridge door. Maybe there's some leftover pizza or some other kind of leftovers that look edible, but the whitish lights only shines on very empty shelves.

They do have milk. It's most likely expired, but it's there.

She sets a plastic bowl in front of Bailey, fills it with cereal, before setting a place mat and a bowl for Zola and for herself. She grabs the spoons while she finds a suitable pot to heat up the milk, to see if it starts going sour even if the expiration date says boldly it should be fine until the next day.

Luckily for them, the milk is still good, and they have enough bowls to last them through one more night, one more dinner.

She calls down Zola, puts Bailey in his high-chair, then they silently start to eat. The cereals get soggy quickly, but the kids don't seem to mind that. Meredith surely doesn't. Dinner is a quiet affair, the kids' light subdued as tiredness gets the best of them, and they are almost reluctant to get up and go play as Meredith sets up the computer for the Skype call.

Derek is quicker than usual to accept the call, the beige wall of his apartment in DC as his usual background, a concerned expression marring his features.

He looks tired, maybe just as tired as she feels, and she doesn't know what to feel. At this point of the day, she's just too tired to feel anything.

"Where have you been?" Derek's greeting takes her aback, makes her frown. "I've tried calling you at least five times to see if you could Skype tonight."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Derek huffs, but the first hints of an argument dissolve into the air.

"How are the kids?" Derek asks softly, but before he can get an answer out of her, they both hear a piercing cry coming from the living room and a desperate call for Meredith's presence.

Zola shows up at Meredith's side in a flash. "I did nothing, Mama. Bay kicked my doll."

Meredith sighs, trying not to snap and be the collected mother Zola needs. "I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose, you know how unsteady he is."

Almost as if he should be proving a point, Bailey crawls over them, propping himself up by using the chair near Meredith's legs, then promptly falls on his diaper.

"Are the kids still up?" Derek frowns, his gaze falling on his watch.

Both children's heads snap to the screen as they hear their father's voice, and they both grin in recognition, waving their little hands and calling his name, telling him about their days the best they can.

"Daddy, Daddy, you comin' home for my birfday?" Zola asks, bouncing on her heels in expectations.

"I'll be there, baby girl." Derek smiles, a smile Meredith is sure he only has for the kids. At least he still loves them just like the very first day. At least they have a father that loves them, even on the other side of the country. "Now, why don't you guys go back playing quietly, I need to talk to your mama about boring work stuff."

"Eww," Zola cringes, giggling as she grabs Bailey by his hand. "C'mon Bay, I don't wanna hear boring work stuff."

Bailey follows her lead, crawling and giggling like mad.

Meredith sighs, her eyes meeting Derek's when the children have disappeared in their playroom.

"I will be there for her birthday, I promise," Derek says solemnly, almost as if he needs to prove the point to Meredith.

"I know."

"It's just...never mind." Derek sighs, his eyes darting away from the monitor for a moment.

"I found the present we were looking for, I have it with me." Derek smiles gently. "That's why I wanted to call you."

"Great, I'm glad."

"Do you even care what the thing looks like?"

Meredith shakes her head, too tired to let the bitterness of his words sting too much. Derek seems completely oblivious to her exhaustion.

"Why are the kids still up at ten, Meredith?" he asks, sounding every bit like the father he is. Except, he's not _her_ father.

"Because I was working. Like you asked me to. Until I can cure death."

Derek rolls his eyes. "You should get home to get the kids into bed on time."

"I try, Derek. Every single night something comes up. It's just me, you know?"

"You were the one so adamant in sending me off on the other side of the country." He seethes.

"Let's stop fighting that fight, I'm tired." Meredith shakes her head, sighing loudly, pinching her nose between her eyes.

"So am I."

A moment of long silence stretches awkwardly between them, only the far away voices of the kids filling it.

"I'm going to be home at around two tomorrow, if they don't delay our flight."

"Okay. Do you need to be picked up? Because I don't think I can be there on time."

"Are you sure you can't make it?"

"I can try to free up my schedule, but I'd have to go back later, most likely."

"It's just...my mother would really like to spend some time with you."

Meredith stares at him for a long moment, dumbfounded. Maybe the audio is doing tricks again, or maybe she's just too tired. Carolyn couldn't possibly coming with him without her knowing that.

"Your mother?"

"Yeah, she's coming down with her train then we'll fly together from DC since it's cheaper." His voice is almost neutral, maybe even a little happy at the mere idea of seeing his mother, when he clearly doesn't see the train wreck he's about to slam into.

"She can't."

Derek's eyes widen. "What? Why?"

"I can't do it. The house is a mess."

"I can see that," he snickers, getting fired up. "You have time."

"No I don't, because in less than ten hours I'll be back at work and then I'll stay there."

"Of course, it takes more than ten minutes to wash the mountain of dishes in the sink, you're right."

Meredith's blood boils in her veins. "What is your problem?"

"What was it tonight? Pizza? Chinese?"

"It's none of your business!"

"It is, if my children are surviving on fast food!"

"Right, because you were so kind to leave us food. Poor martyr." Meredith's mocking tone sends him spiraling into anger, and she can see his body twitching not to snap at her.

"Meredith..."

"Your food disappeared by week one, Derek! And since then, I was home barely enough to go grocery shopping twice. Once, I only brought milk and eggs, the other time, Bailey had a blowout in his diaper and I had to leave with half of the stuff before he could be all covered in poop. I apologize for feeding _your_ kids cereal for dinner." Derek is about to say

something, but he can barely open his mouth before she gets more words in. "Now, if you excuse me, I need to put _your_ kids to bed."

And a second later Derek's image disappears from the screen.

She slams the laptop lid down on the keyboard. She exhales, turning around to find her almost four-year-old daughter already dressed in her purple Tinkerbell pajamas. "I not tired," Zola announces. "It's almost my birfday! I almost four. I a big girl."

Meredith smiles, struggling to stay upset even though he had just questioned her parenting skills and continuously manages to speak to her like she is his teenage daughter rather than his wife who is supposed to be his equal. She doesn't know how anyone can stay mad when they have an adorable face like Zola's peering up at them.

"Well, you're not four yet," and a big grin fills Meredith's face, and a week's worth of worries vanishes in that second. "So," Meredith adds, bending over to lift her child up. "You're still a little girl, and little girls need sleep."

"But I'm not sleepy!" Zola protests, sticking her lip out.

"You might not be sleepy, but Mommy is sleepy," Meredith insists in the midst of a yawn.

"Then Mommy go to bed, and I stay up," Zola argues persistently. Even though she isn't their biological child, Zola has managed to acquire both of her parents' stubbornness. When Zola has made up her mind about something, she will do anything to get it.

Meredith carries Zola into the playroom, where she finds her toddler son passed out on the floor. Even though her daughter isn't tired, her son clearly is. Meredith is reluctant to move him, because she dreads the possibility of waking him, but she knows it must be done. She sets Zola down and embarks on the journey of moving Bailey from the playroom floor to his bedroom. Gently and carefully, she lifts him into her arms and carries him into his room, placing him in his crib. She heaves a sigh of a relief as she sets Bailey on his back and his eyes remain closed. _It can't be this easy, _she thinks. Bailey rolls over on his side, and Meredith is convinced he will wake. She swallows, preparing herself to handle a fussy baby, but he doesn't even open his eyes. Meredith breathes a sigh of relief. _Mission accomplished. _She tiptoes quietly out of her son's nursery.

Zola proves to be more difficult. She's in her room now already sifting through her clothes.

"Zozo, what are you doing?" Meredith asks her child.

Zola exclaims, "Picking out my birthday outfit!"

Meredith frowns, looking at the lock on the wall. It's past eleven o'clock now. It's well past Zola's normal bed time now. Then again, it's not like she has a _normal _bed time these days. Meredith worries that if she doesn't get her daughter to bed soon that she'll be difficult to wake up tomorrow and will be cranky during her birthday party. And no one wants a cranky birthday girl.

"Zola," Meredith smirks, having an idea. "How would you like to open one of your birthday presents early?"

"Really? Can I?" Zola's eyes light up.

"Sure, why not?" Meredith grins. "But _first _you need to get into bed. You can only have the gift if you're in bed."

Zola is already snuggled into the comforter, eyes closed, before Meredith can blink.

"How can I see the pwesent if I'm sleeping?" Zola wonders out loud, finally forcing a giggle out of Meredith's lips.

"You can open your eyes, Zozo, Mommy needs to go get the present first."

"Okey dokey!" Zola grins, sitting up a little.

She plays with the polka dots sheets, curling it and uncurling it in her fists, her excitement blubbering by the second, her eyes sparkling when Meredith comes back with a lumpy bag the size of a pillow, but thicker and rounder around the edges. Zola bounces a little in her spot, looking up at her mother in expectation.

"Alright," Meredith says, sighing loudly. "This is a very special present, Zola."

Zola nods, her excitement not dampened by the solemn words of her mother. Unlike what Meredith expected, Zola pulls slowly at the tape messily stuck to the gift, the improbable shape of the present making her miss Derek even more. After all the nieces and nephews he has, he's a pro gift-wrapper; this is another thing she sucks at.

Zola turns the gift around, trying to find the upper side, then she finally manages to push the paper aside and reveal a doll. Her eyes are full of questions when she looks up at Meredith, clearly knowing that this was not in the list of gifts she tried to bargain for.

"This was Mommy's doll when she was a little girl like you are." Meredith explains, touching the flimsy, a little worn out hospital gown of Anatomy Jane.

"I can't play with your toys, Mama. You gotta play with them."

Meredith grins at the stupor on her daughter's face. "Look," she explains, lifting up the gown and showing the detachable organs. "This is a special doll. This doll has all the organs like a real person, she's just smaller. Little girl sized."

"I'm a little girl."

"That's why I'm giving it to you," Meredith says with a smile. "Her name is Anatomy Jane."

"She's pretty, Mama."

"Do you like your gift?"

Zola nods eagerly, removing the plastic belly, then touching all the colorful organs. "I wanna know all the names of the things she gots inside!"

"All together they are called organs, but it's too late to explain all of them tonight." Meredith caresses her cheek slowly while Zola pokes Anatomy Jane's liver. "We'll study her better tomorrow, okay?"

Zola sighs, disappointed.

"Wanna know one more secret?" Meredith grins, trying to lift Zola's spirit. "Mama made up all the names when she was a little girl."

Meredith winks, kissing the crown of Zola's head as the little girl giggles, squishing the doll closer to her chest as mother and daughter share a hug.

"Can she go to sleep in my bed tonight?" Zola asks, her eyes already wide and pleading with her.

"Of course." Meredith grins, squeezing her daughter one more time. Even if the house is a mess, her husband is an idiot and life seems to be crumbling under her feet, Zola is still there, loving her, looking at her like she's the center of the world, her lighthouse in the storm, and nothing will ever compare to that feeling.

"Is it my biftday in the mowning when I open my eyes?" Zola mumbles into Meredith's shirt, before she pulls away from her and slides down under the covers.

"It is, Zozo."

"I'm gonna be four." Zola perks up, but allows Meredith to lay her head on the pillow.

"Yeah." Meredith hums, caressing Zola's back in circles, then rubbing her neck right under her ear, Zola's eyes closing in bliss. "One more sleep, though." Meredith's voice is now barely a whisper, Zola sighing contentedly under her touch.

"I gonna have a pawty?" Zola's words become hazy as sleeps drags her under, her lips opening in a yawn at the very last word.

"A great party." Meredith smiles, keeping up the relaxing motions, as Zola's breathing evens out.

"I wub ya, Mama," Zola murmurs in the quiet of the room, blinking one last time.

Zola is barely conscious when Meredith replies: "I love you too, baby girl."

Meredith listens to her soft breathing, watches her chest rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall, as she feels her own blanket of exhaustion pulling her under, Zola's hands still curled tightly around Anatomy Jane. Her brain is still so wired after the day she had, and she doesn't feel like leaving Zola's room just yet.

She doesn't want to be Ellis. She can't be Ellis.

Surely, she's stressed out, the kids go to bed at unreasonable hours and the house looks like a war zone, but she made time to give Zola her gift. She tries to give both her children some alone time with her, though these days it's almost impossible for her, and she loves them. She's sure Ellis loved her, but Meredith could never tell for certain, not before discovering another side of her mother.

As she tried to juggle two kids, a house and a very demanding job alone, she realized how much her mother had on the plate after she left Thatcher, and that in fact she just...prioritized. She would have liked to be her priority, much like her kids are a priority for her, but her mother made a choice, and they had to live with it.

These days her brain is so messed up she sometimes wonders what it would have been like if her mother had kept the baby and she would have grown up side by side with Maggie. It would surely have made her lonely Boston nights a little more lively. She's glad that Zola and Bailey have each other, no matter how dirty they fight some days, or how epically she's going to screw up at some point if she can't catch a break.

"Goodnight Zola, sleep tight," she whispers, before placing one last kiss on Zola's forehead, careful not to jostle the mattress too much as she stands up.

Zola doesn't move a muscle.

Meredith exits the room to check on Bailey one last time. The little boy is still asleep, curled up in a ball, his socked left foot peeking out from under the blanket, his deep breathing akin to a snore.

She listens to his little sounds, closing her eyes, trying to keep her tears at bay, her head going to dangerous places.

She slips out of his room when she feels like she can barely breathe, taking a minute to gather herself out of the nursery's door, leaning against the wall, trying to keep herself upright. She can't sleep just yet, no matter how tired she is.

The weight of the matter in her eyes makes it difficult for her to stay awake. She thinks of Derek, feeling somewhat bad for snapping at him earlier. It's past midnight in Seattle, which means it's three in the morning in Washington DC. She's certain he's asleep now, but that doesn't stop her from returning to her laptop and propping up her computer screen.

She thinks about the hell of a week, no: the hell of a _month_, she's had with Derek away. The worst of it just happened to blow up a few days ago when she realized she was late. She hadn't told Derek. The last thing she wanted was to get him riled up for nothing, and it had in fact been for nothing. She'd taken three tests and all were, fortunately, negative. Meredith isn't able to begin to fathom what she would have done had the tests been positive. Now, with Derek in DC, it was the worst possible timing to expand their family. Also, considering the fact that they had been close enough _once _in the past three months - the night before he left - in which they'd even had the chance to conceive a baby, the universe would have surely been mocking her if the tests were positive.

Meredith is taken aback when she sees Derek is still online. First, she wonders if he's just left his iPad on or his computer on. She knows that Skype will keep you logged into a device as long as it's on and you haven't logged out of Skype. She swallows, debating on if she should call him back and try to end things on a good note. The thought of him flying when her last words weren't so kind terrifies her, considering their history with planes.

So, she calls him, and she's shocked when he answers shortly after. It's dark on the other end, so she can't see him clearly. Quickly, he turns his video off so his picture replaces the darkness.

"You just got the kids down?" he asks.

She rolls her eyes. Her video is still on, so she knows that he can see her rolling her eyes. "Yes, Derek, I _just _got the kids down, because your daughter is excited about her birthday. She didn't want to sleep. She's stubborn like her father."

"And her mother," Derek notes. "Look, if you just called to argue - "

"I didn't," she says, her voice softer. "I called to apologize, okay?"

"Apologize?" Derek questions, dumbfounded.

"I snapped earlier, and I know you have the best intentions. The kids' well-being is what's most important. I get it, I do. And I'm trying, Derek. I really am. Derek, I can't do it anymore," she sighs.

"I'm lost, Meredith. You're the one who said I should go to DC. In fact, you _insisted _that I come here. You wouldn't have it any other way. Isn't Amy helping you?" Derek inquires.

"She is when she can. Usually in the mornings with breakfast and getting the kids ready, but she's also swamped running the Neuro department. There's only so much she can do. She's just the aunt, Derek. You can only expect her to do so much," Meredith explains rationally. "And that's not what I'm talking about."

"Then what are you talking about?"

Silence erupts. Meredith swallows difficultly.

"Earlier this week," she begins to confide, "I thought I was pregnant."

"You what?" he gasps. "Wait. Thought. You're not?"

"No," she breathes steadily. "No, I'm not. I took three tests. All negative, thankfully. That's the last thing we need on our plates right now, and that's exactly what I can't do anymore. Derek, we're swamped, and I love both of our children to death. But I can't do it. I can't cure death if I'm chasing a houseful of children. So...I was thinking about making an appointment with my OB to get my tubes tied." The words just slip out in the heat of the moment. She's frustrated and exhausted. The thought has crossed her mind many times since the scare, though she hasn't actually contemplated revealing those thoughts to Derek.

"You what?" Derek barks instantly. "What? Don't you think you should discuss this with me before making a decision that involves prohibiting us from ever expanding our family? I'm not always going to be in DC. You're not always going to be swamped at work. What if in two or three years we decide we want to have another baby? Tying your tubes is permanent, Meredith! Aren't you on the pill?"

"Okay, first off, what does it _look _like I'm doing, Derek? I haven't done it yet. Unlike you, who accepts job positions on all continents without talking to your wife, I am _talking _to you before I make a decision, since you apparently missed the memo. Two, no form of birth control is one hundred percent reliable. You can get pregnant on the pill. You're a doctor, you know this. The only thing that's one hundred percent reliable is abstinence."

"And you seem to be pretty good at practicing that. Three months, Meredith. We have sex once in three months, and now you're bringing this up? We used to have sex several times a week, and you weren't worried about getting pregnant then. Why are you worried about it now?"

"Maybe because you're in DC? Maybe because I want to have a career too? Maybe because it's my damn body, and it's my choice?" Meredith scoffs. "Derek, I almost _died _giving birth to Bailey. I don't want to go through that again. I'm not saying we can never expand our family. We can always adopt if and when the time feels right. I don't want another accident, and I certainly I don't want to risk getting pregnant again only to miscarry or risk my life or the baby's. It's not worth it."

"But you didn't die, and we have a healthy baby boy. You're calling him an accident?" Derek abruptly demands

"No!" she gasps at the accusation, immediately frustrated by Derek's selective hearing and twisting of her words. "I love Bailey, and I wouldn't trade him for the world."

She hears him heave a loud, obnoxious sigh. "You know what, Meredith. Do whatever you want. You're going to get your way no matter what, because you _always _do. You got to stay in Seattle just like you wanted. You even got me out of the way. Meredith gets what Meredith wants. My opinion is invaluable."

"That's not true," Meredith protests.

"Clearly it is. It's three-thirty in the morning, and I'm going to bed. Goodnight, Meredith."

His picture fades away as the call ends.

Meredith swallows a wad of spit in her throat. Mission "make things better with Derek" before going to sleep had resulted in the opposite effect.

She studies the mess that surrounds the house, specifically eying the pile of dirty dishes. It becomes clear to her that she won't be sleeping tonight. She shuts down the laptop and places it in its computer bag and puts it away. Meredith returns to the kitchen and begins loading the dishwasher. Fortunately, she hasn't used any pots and pans, so loading the dishwasher comes easy. Unfortunately, she has so many bowls, cups, and plates that there isn't enough room in the dishwasher for all of them, so she will have to do some by hand.

As she starts the dishwasher, she hears the turn of the front doorknob. Within moments, her sister-in-law groggily walks through the front door. She's carrying a purple and pink Polka dotted gift bag in her hand.

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><p>Amelia enters the house, unable to ignore the fact that it looks like a tornado has torn through all layers of the usually tidy home. She's fairly certain that it looks worse than it did the first time she babysat for Derek and Meredith. Now, she's alarmed to find her sister-in-law still wide awake and apparently doing the dishes. In her scrubs. It doesn't take a medical degree for Amelia to realize something isn't quite right with Meredith. She notices the bags of dark circles surrounding Meredith's eyes. Morose. Glum. Distress. It all reads on Meredith's face.<p>

They've barely crossed paths in the last week due to their hectic, busy schedules. Amelia feels for Meredith, knowing she's struggling to raise two young children with Derek away and also somehow managing to keep up with a high demanding surgical career. Amelia doesn't know how she does it. Admittedly, seeing her brother and his wife struggling only confirms for Amelia that she was right to leave James. There was no way it would have worked. She is nowhere as strong as Derek, and if Derek is struggling, then she doesn't stand a chance at making a career and a family life coincide.

"Hey," she greets Meredith. She scopes the room carefully. "The munchkins are asleep?"

Meredith nods. "Yeah."

"Oh, good. Then I have time to hide the gift I got Zola," Amelia smiles. She holds up the bag, which carries the gift she had purchased her niece at the mall on her lunch hour. It had been so long since Amelia had had the opportunity to shop for a girl Zola's age. She hadn't known what to get her. Her sisters never let her near their children, since according to them, she was a bad influence. Charlotte's girls are much younger than Zola; they're a few months older than Bailey. "Want to see what I got her? Then you can let me know if you think she'll hate it and I can take it back."

"I doubt she'll hate it," Meredith replies nonchalantly. "Zola's easily pleased. You can't go wrong."

Amelia pulls out the purple apron. She unfolds it, revealing the princess design on the front of the apron. "What do you think? Zola's always wanting to help out in the kitchen. I thought she'd like her own apron."

"She'll love it," Meredith nods with approval.

"I hope so. I'm trying to win Aunt of the Year," Amelia smirks. "I think the competition is pretty tight. I worked with your sister tonight…"

"Don't call her that," Meredith rolls her eyes. "She's not my sister."

"Okay, then, I worked with the woman who once shared the same womb as you…"

"Don't," Meredith's face fills with disgust. "That's gross."

"Right, well, I sort of mentioned Zola's birthday is tomorrow...well, today...and Maggie thought she might get Zola a gift. I didn't tell her about the party because I know you want it to be small, and that wasn't my place, but…"

"Well, I'll just have to tell her that she doesn't need to get Zola a gift. Why would she? That's weird. She's met Zola like twice." Meredith wrinkles her forehead.

"Right, yeah, weird. I shouldn't have said anything. I needed someone to bounce gift ideas off with, and she was there," Amelia sighs. She moves to her room, where she hides Zola's gift in the closet then changes into a pair of sweats. When she returns to the kitchen, Meredith is rounding up all the dishes in the house. Amelia joins in helping her. "What are you doing up so late? It's like one in the morning."

"If you can't tell, the house is a mess. I'm cleaning it, because otherwise it won't be clean tomorrow," Meredith responds dryly, moving the remaining dishes to one side of the sink so she can fill the other side with soap and water. Meanwhile, Amelia begins picking up the toys in the living room.

"Oh, right. Derek's coming home tomorrow," Amelia observes. "But he's seen the house on Skype. Surely he can't expect it to be in pristine condition. I know he's Derek, and he's an ass, but he won't be too bent out of a shape over a messy house."

"Not just Derek. Your mother is coming tomorrow, too," Meredith blurts out.

Amelia freezes, feeling every limb in her body go numb.

"_My _mother is coming? What? No! She can't."

Amelia hasn't seen her mother since her medical school graduation, the day her mother oh so vibrantly made the comment that she never expected the black sheep of the family to graduate college, much less medical school. The same day she and her mother had gotten into a heated argument over topics Amelia can't remember now; she just remembers telling her mother to stay out of her life. Amelia knows that her mother has never forgiven her for the decisions she's made. Carolyn Shepherd never understood how Amelia could be so _selfish_: How her youngest daughter could turn against her after she'd done everything in her power as a single widowed mother to make sure her children had everything life could offer. Amelia knows that her mother sees her as a disgrace to the entire Shepherd family.

"She's taking the Amtrak into DC tomorrow and flying to Seattle with Derek," Meredith enlightens Amelia.

"You've got to be freaking kidding me," Amelia spits.

The storm hasn't even begun.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **_**Dun dun dun… I hope you've enjoyed this first chapter as much as I've enjoyed working with Irene on it. Irene has promised to "keep me in check", though I can just say this: expect the unexpected! It's a balancing act: Combining her love for fluff and my love for angst. I hope you'll join us for the ride! **_


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, you guys! So much love from so many people already, and we only posted chapter 1! Please, keep it up, Nicole and I don't mind it ;) Again, I ramble at the beginning, Nicole wraps it up at the end, so she won't bore you too much like I might do.  
><strong>

**Anyhow, we told you it would be a rollercoaster, so don't say we haven't warned you!**

**I apologize for delaying the update a little, since we could have posted this morning and bam, half a day has gone by and I'm still typing this. Sunday is always a family-oriented day when I'm home, especially today that it's practically a holiday here. I got sidetracked, so it's all on me! **

**Thank you guys for reading chapter one, and for deciding to continue the journey with us. **

**Buckle in!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

* * *

><p>Derek doesn't actually remember sleeping that night. He remembers lying on his back in his cold empty bed, watching the shadows within his apartment until his alarm shrieks, piercing his ears to tell him it's time to get out of bed. His eyeballs weigh heavily their sockets as he rolls over on his side and blankly stares out the window into the glaring night lights. Even though it's still dark outside, luminosity fills the streets ofWashington DC. It's a very different setting fromhis home in Seattle. At home, night is night. Darkness is darkness. The only hints of light come from the moon and the stars on Seattle's few clear nights. In DC, the light never dims outside of his apartment.<p>

It's hard being away from his family. He never wanted this. He hates it, in fact. But it is what it is, for now.

Breakfast is a no-go. He doesn't have time. His mother's train is due to arrive at Union Station at seven o'clock. Fortunately, Union Station has plenty of restaurant and snack venues, so he figures he and his mother can stop for breakfast before taking the Metro to Reagan, where their plane is scheduled to depart at ten DC time. If all goes well, he and his mother will land in Seattle around one p.m. Seattle time.

_If all goes well, _Derek swallows, being forced to recollect the dispute he'd had with Meredith last night and early this morning.

He understands why Meredith is upset about his mother coming on such short notice. Admittedly, he'd been a bit shocked himself. But he couldn't just tell her _no_. She is his mother, after all, and he never gets to see her. She's always been good at keeping herself busy. Carolyn Shepherd isn't someone you say no to.

Unfortunately, she's just like his sisters: Terrible at giving advanced notices.

At least she _gives _notices; his sisters don't even do that. Amy, Nancy, and Lizzie had all shown up in Seattle without even warning him first; Amy had done it multiple times, her last visit turning into a permanent affair, not that he was complaining. He likes having her around. Well, more often than not anyway. He'd been the one who initially asked her to stay, though he hadn't _actually _expected her to stay.

Had Meredith bothered to answer her phone yesterday, he wouldn't have had to wait until ten o'clock the night before his mother planned on arriving to tell her his mother is coming.

Sometimes, he doesn't understand how she can be such a menacing hypocrite. She fusses about him dropping bombshells on her without discussing them with her beforehand, and then she wonders why he doesn't: Because when she makes up her mind about something, there's no changing it. There's no point in discussing _anything _with her, because it's either her way or the highway.

He arrives at Union Station at quarter to seven, holding only the bag that houses Zola's birthday present in it. The present Meredith hadn't cared to see.

The sun has started to rise over the nation's capital. He walks up the silver steps, acknowledging the tall pillar tunnels that surround the setting.

With all that's on his mind, Derek doesn't even want to think about the bombshell that she had dropped on him in the early morning hours. They have not exactly talked about having more children. Meredith is right. They have their hands tied right now. Adding another child to their already hectic lives would not be a smart move. However, he comes from a large family. He's used to being surrounded by a houseful of children at the holidays. Moving to Seattle had been difficult at first, especially the first Thanksgiving and Christmas without his family, both of which he'd spent at the hospital _with Meredith_.

He loves her so much, sometimes to the point it hurts to love her. He loves her, even when he hates her. She can be difficult. He gets that. He knew that before they were married. But that didn't stop him from loving her. That _doesn't _stop him from loving her, still.

He is having a hard time wrapping his head around the reason she would want to close off any and all possibility that they may have of making another biological child in the future. Life is difficult now, but it won't always be difficult. They just have to ride out the storm. Derek doesn't doubt that they'll get through it and that they'll come out stronger. They always do.

What if in two or three years their lives tone down, and they decide that they want to create another child together? Conceiving Bailey had been a challenge, and they'd both given up hope of ever having a biological child together by the time he came around. They had made Bailey together, though, and Derek doesn't doubt that they could make another baby too.

Clearly, Meredith doesn't either, otherwise she wouldn't be considering something so extreme to prevent it from happening.

Does she really not have hope? Hope that this phase in their marriage will pass? She was so adamant about him leaving Seattle, like she really didn't want him around; and then there was the whole deal where she wouldn't even let him even touch her for three months. They hadn't gone that long without having sex since they'd actually gotten back together for good. Three months was their new record, surpassing their previous record of three weeks earlier that year when he'd first been called by the president. Three weeks was too long. It's hard to believe that he's been away from home for three and a half weeks, though. Three months felt like an eternity.

Derek doesn't know what to think anymore. He feels like he's slowly losing her. Like she's slowly slipping away before his eyes. His heart aches miserably at the thought of that dreadful notion.

_Gate A_, he recollects, hoping he correctly remembers the gate that his mother had told him. The conversation is such a blur at this moment. It was early yesterday morning before he'd gone to work. His mother had surprised him as he was getting out of the shower. The next thing he had known, she was insisting she come to Seattle with him to attend Zola's birthday party.

She'd told him that she needed to see her grandbabies, specifically the birthday girl, and she also wanted to check up on her youngest daughter. Amy apparently isn't returning her calls, which doesn't come as a surprise to Derek. After all, Amy hadn't even told their mother that she had moved to Seattle. He had let it slip, assuming Amy might have the courtesy and common sense to keep their mother up-to-date on her whereabouts herself. Then again, courtesy and common sense were never two of Amy's strong points.

"Derek!" He freezes when he hears his mother's voice calling his name. Turning around, he sees her walking toward him, holding a large bag - not too big for carry-on, though - and her purse.

"Ma," he grins, walking toward her and welcoming his mother with a hug. He takes the large bag from her, noting it has to be at least twenty pounds.

"Well, are you ready to do some major shopping, son? I didn't catch the early train for nothing." His mother beams.

"We don't have a ton of time, Ma," he laughs, looking at his watch. "We have about two hours before we need to catch the Metro to head to Reagan." He pulls up the Metro schedule on his iPhone. From Union Station, they would need to take the red line to Gallery Place and then change to the yellow line to go to Reagan. Learning to read the Metro map in DC had been one of Derek's biggest challenges when he first began his travels to the nation's capital. If possible, he tries to avoid taking the Metro. He generally takes cabs, though in this case, taking the Metro would be more convenient. Plus, he knows his mother has always had a weird fascination with subways. One thing is for certain: they are much cleaner than the New York subways.

"A lot can be done in two hours, my dear." His mother chuckles as they walk past Au Bon Pain.

"Our plane leaves at ten, so we should catch the red line around nine-thirty," Derek continues as his nose is tantalized by the aroma of freshly baked goods. He looks at his mother, who is clearly indulging in the scent herself. Her eyes widen as she walks toward the pastries.

"Oh, my word!" his mother gasps, gaping at a giant Danish pastry. "I think that's the largest Danish I've ever seen! Please tell me you haven't eaten breakfast, Derek."

Derek's stomach churns, rotating in an uneasy vertigo. His argument with Meredith coupled with the stress of traveling - he never eats before flying - has him feeling too sick to eat.

"I'm not hungry, Mom," Derek insists.

"Well, at least have a cup of coffee with me, boy. You look like you're about to peel over at any minute, and you're much too big for me to carry," Carolyn Shepherd says with a smirk on her face. "You know, I carried you in this very spot when you were Zola's age."

"You did?" Derek asks.

"I did," Carolyn nods. "Your father and I thought it would be fun to take you and your sisters to DC for the weekend. You cried the entire time."

He doesn't remember the trip that his mother is referring to. But he still hasn't figured out how his mother managed to raise five children after their father died. He and Meredith can barely handle two when they're together.

His stomach boils. He understands the weight he's left on Meredith's shoulders these past weeks.

_She wanted this, though, _he tells himself. He shouldn't have to feel guilty. She asked him to leave. She did not have to do this on her own. She created this mess. He could have stayed. He could have turned the job down. In fact, he _did _turn the job down _for her_.

"_And you'll resent the kids and me for the rest of your life," _Meredith's voice screams in his head. It was a fight they'd fought too long, a fight that could only be settled by him letting go and moving to DC, even if it meant leaving his family behind.

He agrees to have a cup of coffee with his mother, hoping it'll wake him up a little. They sit down at a small table, sitting directly across from each other.

"I'll save some of this for the plane," Carolyn tells him. She had gone ahead and purchased the large Danish that she had swooned over. "There is no way I can eat all of this." She laughs. Meanwhile, he slowly sips at his coffee. Admittedly, he is starting to feel a little bit better.

He drinks his coffee silently. His head buzzes as the caffeine enters his bloodstream.

"You sure you don't want some?" she asks, pushing the pastry toward him.

He declines by shaking his head.

"So." His mother begins steadily, taking another bite of her pastry. "Are you going to tell your mother why you're so tired this morning?"

He exhales. "I was up late," he admits, adding, "talking to Meredith on Skype." He doesn't feel it's necessary to divulge any further details of his and Meredith's conversation. Though, he worries his mother will be able to sense something is off. His mother has a way of knowing these things.

Maybe he and Meredith can pull it off. Better yet, maybe the storm will have blown over by the time he and his mother arrive in Seattle. Maybe Meredith didn't actually mean she wanted to get her tubes tied. Maybe she was just stressed out and saying it in the heat of the moment. They've both said things they didn't mean in the heat of the moment.

"Ah." His mother nods. "I had a hunch it might be something like that. I tell you, you kids have it made with all your technology. You know, I met your father in the Navy. We would at times go months and months without seeing or talking to each other. Our only form of communication? Good ol' snail mail. I remember how my heart used to skip a beat every time I received a letter from him." She sighs. "Of course, then there was the _Dear John _letter your father sent me."

"Dad sent you a _Dear John _letter?" Derek asks blankly.

"He did," his mother nods. "We'd been apart more than we'd been together. We'd seen each other twice in the past year, the last being about three months before. He was scheduled for another twelve-month tour. He wanted to _set me free_, as he worded it in the letter. Well, you can see how that worked out."

"What happened? How did you work it out?" Derek asks, rubbing his forehead.

"I found out I was pregnant with Katie." His mother smiles. Derek's eyes widen. His mother chuckles. "As soon as your father found out, he cancelled his tour. We both left the Navy, and we settled in that small Connecticut town you and your sisters were born and raised in."

Derek's stomach flutters.

"Well, I can't eat any more," his mother divulges, wrapping the Danish in her napkin. She gently places it in her purse. "Let's shop."

Derek groans before getting up.

"Don't look so pouty. You've always hated shopping. Just like your father. It's not a _manly _thing to do, I know. But you can suck it up and shop with your mama for an hour." His mother's voice is stern and determined.

He trudges behind his mother as they scope out the various Union Station stores. His mother ends up spending most of her time in _H&M_.

"Now, that is just adorable." His mother refers to a long-sleeved blue sweater with a deer printed on the front. "Maddie would love it. Maybe they'll hold it until I get back from Seattle." Maddie being Nancy's youngest daughter. "Oh, do you think Zola would like these?" She's referring to a pair of purple high heels.

"She would love them," Derek says, "but I have a feeling that you have at least ten presents in this bag that I'm carrying, judging by the weight of it."

"Only nine," his mother corrects. "I was going for an even ten, though."

"If you get anything else, it won't fit on the plane," Derek protests.

"You have a point." She frowns.

Derek glances at his watch. "We really need to go."

After a little more prodding, Carolyn Shepherd finally complies and they make it to the subway just in time to catch a train heading to Gallery Place. Derek uses his Fast Pass to get through the gates. In DC, it's a dollar cheaper to ride the Metro buses and trains if you've got a Fast Pass. His mother purchases a paper ticket, and they're on their way.

Gallery Place is only two stops after Union Station. After switching trains, Derek checks his phone to make sure the plane is still on schedule. It is, so they don't have much time to spare.

The Metro Rail stop at Reagan is one of the few in DC that is actually above ground. A large sign that reads _Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport _is visible when they step off the train. The airport is in plain view across the street.

His mother is quick to jump on the "moving floor" as they enter the airport. Normally, Derek would laugh at this, because he thinks it shows how lazy Americans have become. They can't even move their feet to walk across the floor. Today, Derek doesn't laugh, though. He is too tired, so he joins his mother and blissfully enjoys a few moments of standing still as the floor takes him from one side of the hall to the other.

After retrieving their tickets and passing through security, they're finally in the waiting area. Derek checks the board again to see if their flight has begun boarding, since it's close to the time that it should.

_Delta Flight 362 to Seattle: Delayed until 10:20. _

Twenty minutes. Their flight is delayed twenty minutes. He cringes. Okay, twenty minutes isn't much. Actually, it's a good thing. It gives him time to catch his breath.

He tells his mother about the delay and they take a seat not far from the gate. For the first time that morning, he looks at his phone secretly hoping Meredith might have texted him. _Nope_, he's not surprised to see she hasn't. Instead, it's Amy who has texted him.

_I am going to kill you_, the text reads. He sighs.

_Why? _He texts back, figuring Meredith has informed her about their mother's surprise visit.

_You know why, _Amy replies instantly. Yep. She knows.

_Don't be mad at me. Maybe you should return Mom's phone calls, _he replies.

His mother is also looking at her phone. He notices she has the latest iPhone 6. He only only has an iPhone 5. He feels a little shamed by the fact his mother has newer technology than he does.

She's smiling proudly at her phone. She turns the phone toward him, revealing a photo of a girl he barely recognizes, other than the fact she looks like a miniature version of his sister Kate. She's holding a basketball. "Natalie's basketball team won their first round in the tournament this morning. They're onto round two."

"That's great." Derek feigns a smile. He's happy for his niece, really. Hearing his mother talk about his sisters' kids resonates with Derek, making him realize how much time really has passed. Maddie was in diapers the last time he saw her, and Natalie was just learning how to ride a bike. They grow up so fast.

His stomach twists into a knot, and he feels slightly ill. He's thinking about how fast his own kids are growing. It's been over three weeks. Three weeks is too long.

"Flight 362 to Seattle is now boarding," a woman's voice announces over the intercom.

Even though their last conversation ended on a bad note, he feels it's important to keep Meredith up to date on his schedule. Before boarding the plane, he sends Meredith a quick text message.

He and his mother find their seats. She takes the window seat after placing her carry-on bag above.

Once they're fully adjusted and comfortable in their seats, his mother whispers in his ear, "So, now that we're situated, are you going to tell me why a husband and father who's going to home to see his family for the first time in weeks looks so glum?"

* * *

><p>In Seattle, that same morning, Meredith wonders if accepting the six-thirty appointment with her OB was a good idea while she wrestles with Zola's shoes when the sun is not even out yet.<p>

Okay, Dr. Ryan gave her the earliest opening, knowing her consult wouldn't take long; she should be grateful she has an appointment on such short notice in the first place. Yet, the early morning wake up call, coupled with the late bedtime, makes for a very hostile household.

"Please Zola, put your shoes on," Meredith says firmly, hands on her hips, staring down the girl, trying not to burst into tears or strangle her daughter. "On your feet, not on your hands. Or your head."

"I want a song, Mama." Zola pouts, frowning at her mother.

"What? You don't need songs to wear your shoes." Meredith regrets her sharp reply immediately, when Zola's eyes darken and her bottom lip sticks out.

"You didn't sing my birthday song," she says, folding her arms over her chest.

Meredith freezes in her spot, swallowing a lump in her throat as her eyes widen in surprise. She was so wrapped up in her own stuff that she forgot her daughter turning four. Four years old. Ellis wasn't there to wish her a happy birthday when she turned four either.

"I don't wanna put my shoes on if you don't sing the song." Zola stands her ground, barefoot and fierce, standing tall in the middle of the foyer.

"Mama was waiting for the party to sing with all your friends, Zozo," Meredith says, trying to make up for it, hoping that the damage is not too big just yet, wishing that horrible mothering wasn't hereditary, apparently.

Zola scoffs, but then wears her shoes, coming to stand next to Bailey as Meredith is zipping up his jacket. Meredith crouches in front of Zola then, smoothing down the lapels of her raincoat, then she smiles brightly, meeting her daughter's sad eyes.

"Happy birthday to you," she sings, her voice a low, happy murmur. "Happy birthday to you." Zola's smile finally appears, as Meredith tries to keep at bay the tears. "Happy birthday dear Zola; happy birthday to you!"

Zola laughs as Meredith showers her with kisses, holding her tightly, breathing her in, their coats rustling, their cheeks meshing in the closeness.

"You sing so pwetty, Mama." Zola sighs, as Meredith pulls away from her. Her hands remain on her shoulders though, studying her daughter's now four-year-old body, spotting all the littlest changes in her, how her baby features are making room for more little girl traits, and how much she doesn't want to miss anything more of her.

"I love you so much, Zola."

Zola giggles, kissing her mother's nose, then she skips back to the couch to retrieve her Anatomy Jane. Meredith notices with a smile that it's already her favorite toy.

Meredith leaves a note on the kitchen counter for Amelia, who is still in bed like any rational human being at this hour; especially considering they were both up until four in the morning cleaning. She tells her sister-in-law in the note that they're all at the hospital, then that Derek and Carolyn will arrive around two or three that afternoon, depending on traffic. She hopes she won't ask many questions about her early start. Today she can't deal with questions.

Much for Meredith's relief, the kids are still half asleep as they drive to Grey-Sloan, their babbles barely filling the silence of the cab. She parks in Derek's reserved spot since it's closer to the hospital; who cares if he's not there, she might as well milk in the very few perks of being married to a hotshot neurosurgeon.

The kids scramble away from her to join their friends in daycare with nothing more than a peck on their cheeks each, though Bailey stays still long enough to be pulled into a gentle hug before he disappears through the maze of construction blocks and train tracks. Zola instead is a ball of energy, ready to celebrate her birthday with her daycare friends, cupcakes and party hats included.

Meredith sighs deeply when she waves goodbye to both teachers, then makes her way to the locker room to change into her scrubs before going down to Dr. Ryan's office. She's still settling her pager at the waistband of her pants when hears her name being called out around the the corner from the OB's office, and she lets out a gentle smile at the person walking towards her.

"Good morning, Connie. Thank you for penciling me in," Meredith greets her OB kindly, as they fall into step.

"It's not a problem, Meredith. How are you doing?"

"Very busy these days." Meredith sighs, trying not to divulge much more of her messy life. She tends to over share when put in the spotlight, damn rambling.

"I can imagine, with Derek being in DC and all." Dr. Ryan shrugs, fishing in her bag for her office keys. "How's Bailey?"

"Growing like a weed," Meredith admits, smiling genuinely for the first time that day.

Dr. Ryan closes the door behind them, settling her stuff on her desk, then she looks at Meredith straight in the eye, a question in her eyes before it's on her lips. "Why?"

Meredith lets out a bitter laugh. "Honestly?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality."

Meredith shakes her head, her lips curling up in a sad smile. "I had a scare last week. Three negative tests, and the only thing I could think about was how could I manage it all if I were indeed pregnant. I can't juggle all these balls."

"You know there are plenty of contraceptive methods that do their job."

"Nothing is one hundred percent reliable."

"Still, tying your tubes is surgery, Meredith."

"And there's going to be a surgery next time I get pregnant. Believe me, I'm _that_ lucky."

Dr. Ryan shakes her head, muffling a laugh. "Look, I need to evaluate the situation. For today I'll just do a sonogram, then I'll get back at you with the result and my opinion. If you really want to do it, I'll be happy to help. You do need to think long and hard about this, though."

"Of course." Meredith nods, following Dr. Ryan's directions to sit on the exam table, scrub pants slightly pulled down.

"We'll also do a blood work, just to make sure nothing is wrong with you in general. How do you feel these days?"

"Tired, stressed out, pissed off."

Dr. Ryan laughs. "Alright, blood first, sonogram later."

Meredith braces herself for the needle, closing her eyes, wishing that this time Derek could be there holding her hand too. Except he's fully against doing this, and even if they weren't fighting this would have surely brought to light an argument.

She takes a deep breath, squeezing her eyes, trying not to pass out as she feels the needle prickling her skin. She's glad it only lasts a second really, before Dr. Ryan announces that she's done and that they can start with the sonogram.

"The results might take a couple of hours to process, even if I put a rush on it," Dr. Ryan explains as she grabs the necessary instruments for the exam, settling Meredith in the perfect position.

"I can come back after rounds, if that's not a problem." Meredith nods in understanding, heaving a deep breath as Dr. Ryan starts the sonogram.

"I'll have you paged."

Dr. Ryan remains quiet for the rest of the exam then, her frown more marked by the second as she studies the screen. Meredith feels a little lost now that the screen is turned away from her and the neon light reflects on the screen.

"How many tests did you say you took?" Dr. Ryan asks gently, finally peeling her eyes off the screen.

"Three. Why?"

"I'm sure you know just as well as I do that false negatives are a lot more common than false positives when it comes to home pregnancy tests," she begins, only to be interrupted by Meredith's frown.

"I know that blood work is more reliable than those. Why are you saying that?" Meredith studies Dr. Ryan's neutral expression, feeling a lump of worry rise in her throat.

Instead of answering, her doctor turns the screen towards her, letting out a small smile. "I'm pretty sure you can read sonograms on your own, am I right?"

Meredith's jaw drops.

She's not sure she can read sonograms anymore after seeing hers. She's sure she might have stopped breathing for the second necessary for her brain to process the dark blob on the right side of the screen, though.

"I think we have to postpone the surgery either way," says Dr. Ryan, grinning.

Meredith's lungs stop working and she starts taking deeper and deeper breaths. She feels her eyes sting with unshed tears, her sternum pressing too tightly against her ribcage, making her muscles hurt. It's like the most unwelcomed of tight hugs from a long lost aunt, which leaves her panting and nauseated.

Meredith closes her eyes, trying to steady her breaths, trying to block out the image of the embryo in her uterus, wishing there was a mistake in the sonogram, a mix up. It doesn't need to be real as long as she keeps her eyes closed.

"Looks like you're around five weeks along from here, Meredith."

It cannot be real.

"I would liketo wait for your blood work to confirm viability, though."

It cannot be real.

"_Slow, deep breaths_." She hears in Derek's distinctive tone, the memory of a supply closet and a similar panic attack resurfacing behind the darkness of her eyelids, and she feels angry for thinking about him. Or well, for her brain for going there in the first place. Damn him, his stupidly soothingvoice and his even more stupid boy penis.

She barely hears calling her name, her voice muffled like she were in water. Meredith's brain is most likely swimming and doing tricks. Maybe she has a brain tumor and these are visions. Anything could be better than this.

She can't deal with a baby now.

"Meredith." Dr. Ryan touches her arm and brings her back into the room, forcing her eyes open, pushing aside Derek's voice, much to Meredith's relief. The numbness doesn't want to go away, though.

"Okay, take a couple of hours to get over the shock, we'll talk more in detail about the pregnancy when you come back after the blood work results are in," Dr. Ryan coaches, and only then Meredith realizes that she's still rubbing her back in slow circles to calm her down.

She hums something nonsensical, shaking her head, feeling the tears sting her eyes, then all of a sudden the numbness is gone and she only wants to flee.

The gods clearly have some mercy left for her, because her pager shrieks, breaking the surreal quiet. Dr. Ryan smiles gently, her own way to say that it's okay for her to bolt.

It's not like Meredith would have needed her permission.

She almost feels compelled to thank the guy down in the ER who slammed his car against a brick wall when she gets there, except he's in and out of consciousness, the pain meds making him loopy.

"Hello, Mr. Kimball. I'm Dr. Grey," she says as she waltzes in the trauma room, reading his history from the chart one of the interns hands her, trying to keep herself collected, her doctor mask fully on.

She feels so much like Ellis right in this second it makes her want to hurl.

"Wife. Ma wi-fe," the man stutters, groaning in pain a second after.

"Keep still Mr. Kimball, your sternum is broken," a voice interjects before Meredith can keep him calm herself. She turns around and in the corner she sees her second worst nightmare. Okay, maybe she wins the bronze since right now seeing Derek would be even worse.

Why Maggie freaking Pierce has to share brick wall guy with her? Fucked up universe.

"I can see free fluid in his abdomen," Meredith addresses one of the residents in the case. "Please, book an OR for me."

"I'm pretty sure we'll have to work in tandem, his aorta is dissecting," Maggie announces, making Meredith close her eyes and take a slow, deep breath.

This is going to be a very, very long day.

"Let's roll, people," Meredith orders, tearing off her yellow gown as the resident starts rolling the gurney out of the trauma room. Maggie pushes the gurney on the other side, once every few seconds trying to meet Meredith's gaze.

The staring contest lasts until they are in the scrub room, side by side, and Maggie hands Meredith the scrubbing sponge and the brush.

"How long do you think you'll be?" Maggie asks, and Meredith almost rolls her eyes at the attempt of small talk. She can talk medicine though, she doesn't mind talking medicine. It beats talking about the embryo in her uterus for sure.

"Depends on how big the bleeder is. I'm pretty sure one of his kidneys is crushed to a pulp. I'm hoping we can save at least part of his spleen and that there are no other tears."

Maggie hums in agreement, studying Meredith's expression, clearly keeping herself in check not to ask more. Meredith is grateful for her self control. Still, she scrubs in quicker than usual, her flighty nature having the better of her.

They start working in a companionable quiet, focused on the task at hand as they try to contain the emergency. Everything seems to go smoothly, both surgeons working on their own side of the table, asking for instruments or stats check in calm and collected voices, their hands steady, their emotions hidden behind their white masks.

Meredith is in the middle of stitching up a tear in the spleen to see if she can savage both kidneys when her cell bleeps. The sound makes Meredith jump out of her skin.

"What does it say?" Meredith asks one of the interns watching, stopping with the stitches and taking a deep, unsteady breath. She takes out the hands from Mr. Kimball's abdomen when she notices they are shaking.

"A text from _Derek Shepherd ICE_, Dr. Grey." the intern reads diligently, a small smile on her lips. Meredith feels like punching her as she breathes in relief.

She can keep avoiding her OB a little longer.

"Read it to me, please," she orders, resuming her stitches, feeling steady and confident once again.

"Plane was delayed twenty minutes. I'll call you when we land. Ma says hi," the intern reads carefully, her cheeks reddening a little under the mask.

"Thank you, Dr. Radic," Meredith nods, taking another deep breath, this time trying to stop her raging mind from concocting horror stories with incoming mothers or Derek on a plane. She manages to fully stitch up the spleen, she can think of horror stories later.

"Is Derek coming back from DC?" Maggie asks, making Meredith frown. _Since when is he Derek for her?_

"He is." Meredith nods, trying her best to be polite and not question her sort-of-half-sister more than necessary. It's hard not to small-talk after spending almost two hours with a person in an OR, after all.

"Right, today is Zola's birthday. Isn't it?" Maggie grins under her mask, and Meredith has a hard time not to roll her eyes. Meredith only hums in response, pretending to focus on the kidney right in front of her.

Maggie understands her intent right away. "I'm almost done here."

_Thank God_. "How is it going?"

"Pretty straightforward."

Meredith nods, wanting to reply the same, but the monitors start beeping erratically. "Damn it."

"What is it?" Maggie lifts up her eyes from her own portion of the surgery, her turn to frown.

"More suction!" Meredith orders. "The stitches on the spleen aren't holding," she proceeds to explain, working frantically to find the bleed.

Meredith can't question Maggie much as she leaves her spot near the torso and moves down to the abdomen, helping her out with the spleen, checking the stats for her so that she can keep searching.

"Got it!" Meredith exclaims, a smile on her lips as she ligates the bleeding blood vessels.

"Wow, this is a pretty messed up abdomen," Maggie comments, her eyes widening a little. "Do you need an extra set of hands? I'm almost done with the aorta."

Meredith thinks about it for a moment, giving in. "Sure, why not. Unless you need to be somewhere else." It's for the best interest of the patient, after all.

"I have only one valve repair this afternoon. I was supposed to have the morning off, but I was done with laundry and cleaning even before the sun was up. What was I supposed to do with my time?" Maggie shrugs, grabbing some staples to close Mr. Kimball's sternum before she moves down to the abdomen to work with Meredith.

"I'd kill to have a morning off," Meredith blurts before she can stop herself. She bites her tongue, but she's grateful Maggie limits herself to a giggle then resumes her job in silence.

The atmosphere is a lot less tense after that, the two women making surgical small talk, sometimes even branching out to the weather, and Meredith feels at ease for the first time in Maggie's presence. Of course she's green with envy for the easy life and the paved road the woman seems to have at the moment, the fact that their mother abandoned her barely a bleep in her radar at this point.

How could she be so messed up? Is emotional abandonment worse than the physical one? She wishes the questions would stop swirling in her brain and leave blank white noise in its place. Stop thinking for a little while would make things so much easier.

The rest of the surgery unfolds without any more unexpected bleeders, Meredith finding it strangely easy to work side by side to Maggie. It surprises her how well they work together, and she wonders if surgical dexterity is genetic. Maybe it is.

The surgeons scrub out together once again, small smiles on their faces as the water hits their hands and forearms.

"It was a pleasure working with you, Dr. Pierce," Meredith says honestly, her smile widening for a second.

"Likewise, Dr. Grey." Maggie returns the smile with little effort, then she sobers up. "Look, I know this is weird and I just want to apologize in advance for overstepping my boundaries," she begins, taking a deep breath then.

Meredith hums to let her talk a little more, suddenly curious. She turns a little towards Maggie to study her body language better.

"I was talking to Dr. Amelia Shepherd yesterday, about gifts. For Zola."

"I know, she told me. I don't mind that. I don't have a say on who Amelia can be friends with, but you don't have to buy Zola a gift."

"I already bought her one," Maggie blurts, in a very Grey fashion. Meredith's eyes widen a little for both things.

"It's not...You didn't…"

"I know I didn't need to but…" Maggie swallows. "She's my only niece."

"Oh," Meredith bites her lip. "I…"

"Can I give it to you before you leave?"

Meredith opens her mouth then closes it, then blurts: "Come over."

She has no idea why she said that. Except the words of Lizzie Shepherd resonate in her brain. She needs spares, she can't deny it, now that Derek is in DC. It would be nice to have one more person available for babysitting duties, if not more. Plus, today the Shepherds in her life seem to be very eager to intrude in her brain.

Maggie's eyes widen, and her mouth is just as slack, her expression just as surprised as Meredith's when she realizes how monumental her words are.

"I'm...We...Zola's having a party at my house. Nothing big. There will be food." Meredith rambles, keeping her hands busy by yanking out the paper towels from the holder in a nervous manner. "We do live a little in the woods, but I can give you directions or…"

"I would like that." Maggie stutters a little too, gracefully accepting both the opening Meredith gives her into her life and the paper towel she's offering.

"The party starts at four thirty, maybe five but you can come over whenever." Meredith nods, taking a deep breath, hoping she won't regret this one.

"My surgery should be over around five."

"Great." Meredith nods, standing idle in front of Maggie after throwing away the soaked towel. Maggie hums, mimicking Meredith. "I'll just…"

"Yeah. Alright." Maggie giggles nervously. "I'll see you later."

"I'll leave directions in a note in your locker. Is it too high school?" Meredith blushes then, feeling stupid and awkward for even suggesting that.

Luckily Maggie laughs. "We'll keep it between us."

Meredith nods, feeling strangely better for having invited her. At least she took a step, right? Lizzie Shepherd would be proud.

She decides she can debate over that as she goes back to the floor, checking on her next few patients.

She bids goodbye to Maggie, leaning against the wall outside of the scrub room to take a deep breath. She feels drained and it's barely eleven in the morning, she has no idea how she can last until the party ends, especially considering the rollercoaster that the OB test results and Carolyn Shepherd will surely bring along.

And speaking of the OB, her pager shrieks and buzzes, forcing her out of her thoughts.

Dr. Ryan.

Truth time.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: **Truth time, indeed! Betcha didn't see that coming, did you? Now, some of you may have seen a dream that I posted on Tumblr a few days ago. How that dream has or hasn't influenced this story is something I can't say. But what I can say is: Trust in Irene. She wouldn't let anything _too _horrible happen, would she? I understand if you don't trust me, because I don't trust me. But trust Irene! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Nicole's A/N: I want to take a moment to thank all of you for your lovely feedback! We really appreciate it, and it definitely keeps us motivated to keep writing at the pace we are (We've been working on this around the clock thanks to our time zone differences).**

**Anyway, this chapter is for all of you who are like me and don't live in Canada and would prefer not to have 11x06 spoiled for you. Hope you enjoy. (Please give Irene lots of love for her Mer section this chapter. I wrote Derek, she wrote Meredith, and I was absolutely floored by her section!)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Once they're fully adjusted and comfortable in their seats, his mother whispers in his ear, "So, now that we're situated, are you going to tell me why a husband and father who's going to home to see his family for the first time in weeks looks so glum?"<em>

Derek swallows hard, looking shamefully away from his mother. Suddenly, he wishes he had taken the window seat so he could at least have the airport scenery to admire. They haven't taken off yet, meaning the only scenery he would be able to spot is other planes moving around preparing for takeoff. Instead, his eyes aim down the aisle, looking at the other people on the plane. Other folks just like him who are also getting settled in their seats. He wonders if any of them have a nosy mother sitting next to them.

"Derek, dear. Look at your mother, please. Your lack of eye contact only confirms that _something _is wrong. You weren't talking to Meredith early this morning without good reason, am I correct?"

She's good. _Too _good.

And she continues, "I know that love makes you do silly things, but if I'd had technology back in the day when your father was away, I surely wouldn't have been up late talking to him the night before I knew I was going to see him. No, I would have been resting so I'd be bursting with energy when I finally saw him."

He slowly turns his head toward her and lets out a sigh. Fortunately, before he is forced to think up an explanation for his late-night Skype call with his wife, the flight attendant begins demonstrating the flight's safety procedures. He uses this as an excuse to follow along.

Normally, he would ignore the demonstration, considering he's already survived one plane crash, and he's seen this demonstration dozens of time, more times in the last year than in his entire lifetime. But now, he pretends to be fully alert and invested on the safety demonstration. Safety first, right?

The safety demonstration doesn't last long enough, and soon the pilot tells them that they're next in line to take off. Silence returns, and his mother nudges him.

"It's nothing," he sighs insistently.

'You'renot acting like it's nothing," Carolyn observes.

He loves his mother to death, but she can certainly be a tad nosy.

"It's really silly, actually," Derek tells her. "Meredith and I...we had a fight. It was a stupid fight, and that's all there is to tell."

"Here's a little statistic for you: fifty percent of marital fights are stupid fights. I think that percentage gets a little higher each year you're married, and I'm pretty sure it's pretty darn close to one hundred percent after midnight, regardless of how long you've been married."

Derek grunts, wondering if there's any truth to his mother's statement or if she's just concocted it off the top of her head to make him feel better. After all, aren't half of all statistics made up, anyway?

The plane is moving and preparing for takeoff, and Derek knows he's in for a long flight. He's certain that his mother will do everything in her power to pry as much information about his and Meredith's fight out of him. He can't tell her the full story. She won't understand, being the Catholic that she is and a woman who gave birth to five children.

He knows she's not a judgmental person, though, and she likes Meredith. That doesn't change the fact that birth control, particularly permanent forms of birth control such as tubal ligation, are frowned upon by the Catholic Church. _But so is premarital sex, _he thinks, realizing he'd just learned that his eldest sister was conceived out of wedlock. He's never bothered to do the math, but now that he does: he realizes Kathleen was, in fact, born only five months after his parents' wedding day.

"_You need her," _his mother's exact words replay in his head. "_She's the one."_ She'd somehow known all of that after spending less than an hour with Meredith.

His mother _knows _things.

But like all human beings, his mother is flawed. She can be wrong, too. What if she had been wrong about Meredith?

He feels nauseous, which could be attributed from the plane's speed increasing faster and faster towards the runway, eventually gliding off the ground. They are officially in the air. He feels his blood pressure drop when his lightheadedness emerges.

His mother places her hand on his arm.

"Derek, are you okay?" she asks, sounding very motherly.

"Yeah," he assures, flinching at the first hint of turbulence. "Ever since the plane crash...I know I've flown a lot this past year, but it doesn't seem to get easier."

"I can imagine how Meredith feels," his mother comments.

He lifts an eyebrow, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"You were in that plane crash together, right? Mark and Lexie were killed in that same crash. It can't be easy for her with you flying all the time. I remember how terrified I was to let you and Amelia out of my sight after your father…" Her tone drains, and Derek knows exactly what she cut herself off from saying. _After your father was murdered. _

Truthfully, they haven't even talked about his flying frequency. Meredith never mentions the plane crash. It's a sore subject for both of them. They've moved on. Well, the best that they can. Or they've avoided it. Avoidance. It's their specialty, after all. Meredith's pregnancy following the crash had certainly helped distract them. After so much distress and woe, their miracle baby came into their lives like a bright, shining glimmer of light at the end of a pitch dark tunnel.

He doesn't know if she worries about him; he only knows how he feels when she's away from him. Even when she's not thousands of miles above the ground, he worries. He worried about her all day yesterday when she wouldn't answer her phone. He's worrying about her right now, wondering if she did in fact make an OB appointment and how it went if she did. He wonders if she's managing her stress well at work with the mess of the party planning coupled with his mother coming into town and her busy workload. He hopes she's keeping her temper under control, because he knows how vile his wife can be when she's under high amounts of stress. He's not the only one who has to suffer. She can, for lack of a better word, be such a bitch at times.

Of course he can't stop worrying about her. When you love someone, you worry about them no matter what.

The question is, does she still worry about him?

"Yeah, I'm sure it's hard on her," Derek nods, attempting to clear his mind of intrusive thoughts. They won't leave, though. He sighs, confessing the inevitable, "It's hard on both of us."

His mother grabs his hand. "It doesn't get easier." She weaves in her fingers with his, sighing. _Well, you're a ball of fuzzy warmth and encouragement, Mom, _Derek thinks, closing his eyes for just a moment, knowing from his mother's melancholic tone that she is speaking from personal experience now. She raises her eyebrows with sorrow. "If anything, it gets harder. I still worry about you and your sisters every single day. Especially Amelia. I worry about her the most. It's because she's my baby. You always worry about your baby the most."

"Amy has made the most worry-worthy decisions out of all of us," Derek replies tartly, not seeing any truth to his mom's 'worrying about your baby the most' comment. He worries about both of his children equally. He can't imagine anything woeful ever happening to Zola or Bailey.

The idea of either of his children experiencing what he and Amelia had gone through when their father died is unimaginable. Derek will never forget coming out from the back, seeing the blood gushing from his father's head. He had yelled for Amy to stay back, hoping to shield her from the gruesome sight. Somehow, he'd grabbed the phone to call 9-1-1. He doesn't actually remember calling 9-1-1; he just remembers the sirens, and the police telling him how brave he was. Later, his mother had found his sister and him huddled together, sitting on the curb outside the store. He remembers her wrapping her arms around them and sobbing like there would be no tomorrow.

"Even before the drugs," his mother responds hoarsely, interrupting the dark memory that had just resurfaced in Derek's mind. "She was so young. I always worried about how she would be affected. And I...I wasn't in the best state of mind when she was growing up. I was an emotional wreck."

"You did the best you could," Derek interjects, remembering nights that his mother would locked herself in her room, crying, refusing to get out of bed. He remembers tucking Amy into bed on some nights, trying to keep her calm and collected. Nancy and Kathleen were teenagers when Dad died and chose to live in their own little worlds of denial. Derek remembers feeling responsible for Lizzie and Amy when their mother would go into her depressive states. "You loved us, and you told us so all the time. That's all you could do, Ma. That's all we expected you to do."

It's the first heart to heart he's had with his mother since her last visit to Seattle. This time, it's his turn to offer her encouragement.

His mother solemnly shakes her head. "Amelia was too young to really understand the mess of it all. Tell me, Derek. How is she doing?"

"She's - well - she's running my Neuro department, if that tells you anything," Derek scoffs. "When I was in Seattle, naturally, we competed. She's stubborn, like me, and very competitive. In some ways, she reminds me of a younger version of myself. A female version of myself. She seems to be doing all right on her own with me gone, at least from the little I've heard."

Confession time: He's only spoken to Amelia twice since he left. He'd intended to check up on her more frequently, but he decided that it was better to give her the freedom and trust that she so desperately cried for. She had, however, sent him a couple scans asking for advice. They had spoken over the phone about them. Nothing too major, though. He is trying to trust her. Trying. It's hard, though. She'll always be his baby sister. He'll always feel like he needs to protect her.

"Good." His mother nods. "I'm glad she's doing well. I have to admit, I used Zola's birthday as an excuse to fly out here and see her."

Derek chuckles. "I gathered that already, Ma."

"Not that I'm not elated to see my granddaughter and grandson," she adds. "I miss having you around, Derek. I wish I could be as involved in your kids' lives like I am with the rest of my grandkids."

He swallows, feeling an overwhelming sadness lingering within him. His insides twist, as he exhales. "I miss you, too, Mom," he tells her truthfully, holding it together. He's a grown man. He's been the head of the house essentially since he was twelve years old, and that's the role he's supposed to hold now as a husband and father. With Meredith, though, he doesn't feel like he holds that title. She seems to hold it these days, and it's completely out of his control. Everything is spiraling out of his control.

She squeezes his hand.

"I miss all of you," Derek confesses. "Lizzie, Katie, and even Nancy. All my nieces and nephews. They're growing up fast. It's hard to believe that eight years have passed since I moved to Seattle. Everything has changed."

"Hmmm." His mother seems to be contemplating on her own behalf. He can tell from her inquisitive expression that she is about to ask a question, most likely an awkward one. "How long have you been in DC, Derek?"

He swallows, and before he can answer her question, he is interrupted by the flight attendant asking him for his drink and snack choice. It's then that he realizes that his throat is as dry as a desert, and his stomach rumbles.

Skipping breakfast is starting to catch up with him now. And it'll be past one, probably closer to two, Seattle time when they land, meaning he'll have completely missed lunch since his brain will still be on East Coast time at five o'clock. He hopes Meredith or Amelia has found time to shop and stock the house with party food. Somehow, he'll have to find the self control not to eat it all before the party. Meredith would kill him, if she doesn't already kill him for other reasons that she'll surely come up with on her own.

He asks for Mountain Dew, not caring about the calorie content in this moment, all he wants is the caffeine. His snack choices are either a small bag of pretzels or small bag of cookies. He chooses pretzels, since he imagines he'll have no choice but to eat plenty of sugar later at the birthday party. Meredith wouldn't have it any other way, and sugary cake will forever be a birthday tradition.

His mother, on the other hand, asks for a Sprite and cookies.

Derek thanks the flight attendant then takes a sip of his soda while his mother hums, not opening her pop can. He can feel her eyes on him, watching, studying, waiting. But why?

"Yes, Mom?" he asks quietly.

"You didn't answer my question," she insists.

He inhales deeply. "Three and a half weeks. Why?"

"Now, how many times have you traveled back and forth between Seattle and DC this last year?"

He can't recall off the top of his head.

"I don't know. A dozen or so. Why are you asking?"

Though, he already knows the answer to her question. She's trying to prove a point. Carolyn Shepherd huffs a sigh, seeming to know that she doesn't have to answer her son's question for him to know what she's getting at.

"Mom, I've been busy," Derek says.

"Every day, twenty-four-seven? Not even having a Sunday off?" His mother prods in her usual _I know you're lying _tone. He feels like he's eight years old all over again. He rolls his eyes, mimicking his eight-year-old attitude, knowing he's been busted.

This time, it's not sneaking Mark in his bedroom window that he's hiding, though. He doesn't want to admit that he's spent his Sundays in bed until noon then sitting on his couch watching Netflix until ten or eleven o'clock at night, apart from the Sunday that he'd spent the entire day Skyping Meredith and the kids. She'd had the day off, so she had positioned the computer so he could watch the kids play all day. It had been a good day. One of his most memorable days in DC.

That, of course, was their first Sunday apart. Everything had spiraled downhill from there.

He grunts.

"That's what I thought," nods his mother.

"I could have come visited you or invited you to DC," he acknowledges.

"But you didn't," she points out.

He sighs. "I didn't."

They both go silent. Derek closes his eyes, hoping sleep will come so he won't have to be faced with more awkward questions from his mother during the rest of the flight.

* * *

><p><em>Truth time<em>.

Truth time honestly sucks.

Meredith sits in front of Dr. Ryan her fingers playing with the band of her watch, twisting and turning, much like her insides. Especially since Dr. Ryan looks worried.

Crap, maybe it's twins and she totally missed the second sac.

"Meredith," Dr. Ryan begins, sighing deeply. _It's not twins, she looks sad_. "I'll be blunt. I don't like your labs."

It's Meredith's turn to frown. "What is it? Am I dying?"

"No, of course not."

"Your face is telling me I'm dying, Connie."

Dr. Ryan sighs. "Your hCG levels are really low, Meredith. I don't like it at all, especially with your medical history."

Meredith takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You think I'm going to miscarry." Her voice is firm, collected, not at all like she expected it to be.

"We need to do another blood test tomorrow, and if the values don't double, I'm afraid the outcome won't be really good Meredith."

Meredith nods, reading through the results herself.

"Have you experienced any spotting?"

Meredith nods again. "Yesterday. I thought I was about to have my period." And she felt relieved. Now, now she has no idea what to think. Her brain feels like cotton candy as she tries to process her doctor's words.

"No period-like bleeding, though? Any cramps?"

"Doesn't feel like the last time, " Meredith admits, her face darkening at the memory. The blood between her thighs still felt pretty real to her whenever she thought about it. It was not the same feeling at all. "I'm not even feeling sick, being honest."

"Each pregnancy is different, Meredith."

"I know that," Meredith scoffs. "I just...I don't know what to think."

"Look, the sonogram looks fine, so I wouldn't worry about a miscarriage just yet. Tomorrow, if the hCG levels are still low, then you can really worry, now you just need to relax and hold onto the possibility of a positive outcome."

Meredith snorts at that. Loudly. "Right, relax."

"Meredith, I mean it. No heavy lifting - yes, Bailey and Zola are heavy lifting -, try to keep your feet up as much as you can and reduce your stress levels."

Meredith laughs again. "It's Zola's birthday today. I have a birthday party scheduled, my mother-in-law is coming into town and I'm not sure Derek is even willing to speak to me. I don't see much relaxing or sitting down in my near future."

"I mean it, Meredith."

"Maybe it's better if I miscarry," she mumbles under her breath, darting her eyes away from Dr. Ryan's.

Dr. Ryan sighs loudly. "You know there might be complications after a miscarriage. Please, Meredith, take care of yourself even if you don't want the baby. Termination is safer than a miscarriage."

Meredith shakes her head, unable to tell her that no, she can't terminate the pregnancy, or Derek will terminate their marriage. Not that they have much of a marriage these days, but she doesn't want to be the one pulling the plug and have him hate her for the rest of their lives. Her kids deserve a family, or at least divorced parents who can talk to each other without the need for lawyers.

The miscarriage looming over them gives her an out. She dreads what will happen, she dreads the grief she knows will follow, and she dreads Derek's reaction to it, but it's still the easiest way out.

In retrospect, she knows how much more complicated Derek's recovery after the shooting would have been if she would have stayed pregnant. Her stress levels were through the roof, she barely ate, barely slept, barely thought about herself in the first place, she has no idea how she could have managed an healthy pregnancy while Derek could barely sit up in bed.

This time, she feels like the situation is not much different than how it was that day. Of course nobody is pulling out guns in the middle of the surgical wing, but the stress she has to manage is very much like taking care of Derek all over again. Only this time, the kids can at least smile back, and most of the time the joy outweighs the terrible parts.

Yet, she can't bring herself to imagine their life with a third child.

Three children means being outnumbered. It means sleepless nights all over again. It means more poopy diapers, more spit up, more laundry to sort out.

She has no idea how they can do that again when they can barely manage a conversation without chewing each other's heads off. Parenting is a team sport, that is what she has gathered in the past month, while Derek was away and she had to work twice as hard for every little thing. What if they prolong his contract and he ends up staying in DC? Will they have to move? She can't imagine raising three kids with Derek on the other side of the country, and she doesn't want to. Moving is still unfathomable for her, though, and she can't figure out a solution to that problem. Unless the third child magically vanishes into thin air, like it never existed.

"Here," Dr. Ryan intrudes in her very busy head, forcing her return to the present, as she hands her the results of both the blood work and the sonogram. "I will see you tomorrow as soon as your test results are in, alright?"

"What if they don't double? How soon can I expect a miscarriage?"

Dr. Ryan shakes her head at the question, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We can't predict that. Sooner rather than later, though."

Meredith nods, swallowing a lump in her throat. Maybe she can hide it all from Derek, mask it as a heavy period, pretend nothing happened. No matter how much she hates him sometimes, she knows telling him they have lost another baby will break his heart, and she's not that cruel to wish that kind of pain for him.

"Thank you, Connie."

"I'm sorry, Meredith."

Meredith shakes her head as she stands up slowly, feeling a million new aches in her body, knowing that a splitting headache is looming in her future. She says goodbye to the doctor, promising to take care of herself, not to do stupid things, then she exits the office.

She has nowhere else to be, then.

She should troll for cases, but her head is too full to think straight in an emergency situation, and she's too stressed to see the kids. Her brain feels murky, sluggish, her thoughts jumbled and incoherent.

She sees the door of Derek's office, and she's tempted to go in. A new series of memories about that very office come back to her, and she stands there, staring at the locked door with her test results in her hand for an imprecise amount of time, breathing in the stale air of the hospital. Her brain is working a mile an hour, and a quiet place to sit is exactly what she needs.

She grabs her set of keys and picks out the one for Derek's office, still shiny and round like the day he proudly gave it to her, back when the ink on their post-it was barely dry. Of course the keys had changed when he got the new office, but the excitement was the same. He was smiling like a three-year-old on a sugar rush, and if he were a little less manly he would have bounced on the spot when she was the one to open his door for him. Over the years Meredith has barely used the key, but she still likes to have it in the same keyring as the keys to their house.

The door opens with a muffled click that echoes in the rather empty corridor, and Meredith slips in practically undetected. To cover up the sneaking even more, Meredith decides to lock the door.

When she turns around, her breaths are almost knocked out of her: Derek is still there between the four walls of the room.

He might be on a plane over Kentucky for all she knows, but the essence of him permeates the surfaces of the office. From the worn-out throw blanket on the beige couch to the scratched desk, Derek is there. It makes her uneasy thinking about him flying again, knowing that she has no control over his death if the plane were to crash once again. She appreciates the text before and after he gets on the plane, they comfort her, though the worry is still there. If only he can come back safe and sound so she can kill him with her bare hands.

She moves closer to the desk, leaving her own test results over the mahogany surface, tracing the lighter scrapes over the central part of the desk, where he usually writes. Or where she sits when they have a quickie in his office. They probably made most of those marks together, in the heat of the moment, when life was so much easier.

Meredith takes a deep breath before she sinks in his chair, the leather moaning as it accommodates her weight, the back tilting slightly backwards.

She can almost smell Derek in there.

Her head stops swirling for a moment as she savors his male scent, closing her eyes as she tries to relax, to empty her head. Breathing comes easier now, distracted as she is by Derek's phantom presence.

He's smiling at her from one of the photos, and she's smiling with him. It's the first thing she can see when she lifts up her eyes from the manila folder in front of her, and she feels a tug at her heartstrings. He was so adamant in having that photo framed for his office they almost fought about it. He says she looks natural there, the breeze of the ferry blowing her hair, her smile radiant; she only believes she looks like a mess. Yet, Derek wants to look at that photo every day. Next to them there's Zola and Bailey, sitting with her out on their deck, their smiles wide, their faces showing all the months that have passed between then and now.

Her heart squeezes when hanging on the wall next to his diplomas and framed articles -their clinical trial featured more than once - Meredith spots the first photo she has with Zola as their daughter. She looks drained, and so does Zola, but their smiles radiate the unadulterated joy of that moment. Under Zola's photo, Bailey's infamous sixth finger scan hangs proudly, his grainy face making her insides flutter.

She stops breathing when her eyes shift to a recent photo of her and Derek at the rehearsal dinner of April's wedding-that-wasn't. He is wearing a suit and no tie, his shirt slightly unbuttoned at the neck, his hair is mussed but sill wild, too wild to tame after an entire day under a scrub cap, most likely. What brings about her lack of oxygen though are his eyes, staring deeply into hers, his smile soft, gentle, reverent. He's looking at her like she's a prize, and she's smiling at him in a way that she's sure she has forgotten how to do.

Meredith can't remember the last time he has looked at her like that.

She takes her eyes off the wall, grounding herself with the harsh reality of the manila folder in front of her, wondering if he will ever look at her like that again.

Tears sting her eyes as she reads for a third time through her blood work results, going over and over each number, each line, each value. The values are a mess, but the sonogram is proof.

She stares at the dark and grainy blob for a long time, trying to sort her thoughts, making lists of pros and cons, picturing scenarios, reminding herself how to breathe.

At some point, her hand wanders over her stomach, settles right above her belly button, and there it stays. She has no idea why she cannot move it. She only knows that the more she thinks about the situation, the more her thoughts jumble together, creating an epic mess. She can't find one end to unravel it, no matter how thoroughly she searches for it.

She's almost grateful when a jiggling of keys startles her, until it comes to her that the only people with access to the keys couldn't possibly be there. Unless it's a janitor. Or Derek gave the key to other people. She holds her breath as the door clicks open, a little yelp of triumph coming from the other side.

Do janitors yelp in triumph when they open office doors?

* * *

><p><strong>Irene's AN: Uh oh, who's trying to enter Derek's office? Stay tuned to find out!**

**No, seriously, I truly hope you loved the chapter just as much as you loved the 2 before. I'm a little overwhelmed by the love, in a good way! I know there are lots of things that might upset you in this chapter, lots of things both Meredith and Derek think that will set off alarm bells in your reader's mind, but keep in mind that they're both running on practically zero sleep, after a month apart, and they're angry at one another on top of that. Perspective is a key in this fic, guys...**

**I hope to have all of you here next time we post! And remember, we love hearing your thoughts in any shape and form they come at us! Thank you for stopping by!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Irene's A/N: So, after a very long and very eventful day, I can finally give you a new update! It's 2 a.m. here, so I hope you won't mind my slight incoherency. I wanted to update earlier, but the universe and my laptop's CPU decided to conspire against me. It's totally my fault if it was delayed, so when you hit the rotten tomatoes, aim at my head, spare Nicole!  
><strong>

**Are you guys ready to find out who is trying to enter into Derek's office? I still hope you're curious...How come nobody suspected the janitor?**

**Well, I'll leave you guys to it, and remember to thank Nicole for all her hard work in this chapter, she did a wonderful job with it!**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

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><p>If there's one thing Amelia Shepherd has learned during her lifetime, it's that sex opens doors. Literally. She walks tall and proud toward her brother's office door, a round shiny key in her hands. Amelia worked hard to get this key, and she doesn't regret one second of it. After all, it had been <em>months <em>since she had gotten laid. She had an itch to scratch, so she scratched it. The end result is more than satisfactory. No regrets. None at all.

Cutting to the chase, she's pissed at her brother. Livid, actually. He's taken liberty to invite, or at least approve, their mother to Seattle without even consulting her. After all, Carolyn Shepherd is her mother too. Shouldn't she be one of the first persons to know if her mother is coming in town? She shouldn't have to find out from her sister-in-law that her mother is coming. Derek, on the other hand, should have done the brotherly thing and told her himself. Instead, he decided to act like a coward.

And the icing on the cake? He has the balls to call her out for not returning her mother's calls when she happens to remember a certain someone who wouldn't return her phone calls after he'd been shot.

Freaking hypocrite.

Meanwhile, an old patient of his happened to fall into her case load this morning. A twenty-one-year-old female named Beth Monroe. Amelia thought the name sounded familiar. After pulling up the patient's file and taking a collective, detailed medical history from the patient, voila. It clicked. _Beth Monroe_, also known as the patient who had made her brother's malignant glioma trial a success.

She vividly remembers reading the publication during her residency. She remembers all of her fellow residents swooning over Derek's oh-so-gorgeous face on the cover of the magazine, and she distinctly remembers rolling her eyes, hoping no one would ask her if she was related to Dr. Derek Shepherd, the prestigious neurosurgeon. The last thing she needed was to be compared to him, as if living in his shadow isn't bad enough.

For most of her early surgical career, she had tried to hide the fact that Derek was her brother for that exact reason. She did not and still does not want to be compared to him. She can't compare herself to her brother, the World Class Neurosurgeon God who does no wrong. Deep inside, she knows she will never compete, though she'll never tell Derek that.

Anyway, Beth presents with severe migraines and Amelia fears the miracle that her brother performed may have been short-lived. To help Beth, Amelia hopes to take a look at Derek's original clinical trial notes. She's aware that she has the option of talking to Derek about it, but she's pissed at him and has no interest in confronting him about anything right now.

Fortunately, she has a key now. A key that will save her a hell of a lot of trouble now and in the future. She inserts the key into the door. Sure enough, it's a perfect fit. She would have been pissed if her favors had been paid for with the wrong key.

She pushes the door open and it's not long before she realizes the room is already occupied. A loud, piercing shriek escapes her lips.

"What are you doing here?" Amelia demands.

Meredith Grey raises both of her eyebrows. Amelia senses earnest fear in her eyes. "I think I'm the one who should be asking you that question, considering you need a key to get in here. And as far as I knew, I was the only one besides Derek and maybe some janitors who had the key." Meredith quivers, worry spreads across her distinct oval face. She looks upset, much like she had last night. Only this time she looks genuinely frightened.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Amelia apologizes, though she senses it's not _her _that Meredith fears. Perhaps she, too, is fearing Carolyn Shepherd's surprise arrival. Or, maybe she has something else entirely to be afraid of, something that isn't any of Amelia's business...

"Oh, you didn't," Meredith assures. "When did Derek give you a key? I mean, I guess it makes sense that he would give you one. You are his sister."

"Uh, he didn't. Not quite." Amelia knows she could have lied, but she doesn't have a strong urge to lie to Meredith. Besides, she knows it's best to stay on her sister-in-law's good side, because from what she has seen, Meredith's bad side is demonic and horrific. She doesn't ever want to be on Meredith's bad side.

She expects Meredith to ask where she got the key, like anyone else in the world would do, but instead, Meredith shrugs. "Okay, whatever. I'm in the mood to kill Derek with my bare hands, so I don't care that you have a key that he didn't give you."

Amelia smiles and chuckles, reminded of why she loves Meredith so much. She's never been more relieved that Meredith is her sister-in-law, because even though she trusts Meredith, she doesn't feel like explaining the exact method she had to use to get this key. More importantly, she didn't want to reveal _who _she had gotten the key from. He had made her promise to keep it between them.

"That makes two of us, then. Speaking of which, I don't think I'm going to be able to make it to the party."

Meredith's eyebrows narrow as the words escape Amelia's lips; she's giving Amelia the look of death, like she might be the next target on her death wish list.

"Oh, you're going," Meredith says adamantly. "If I have to go, you have to go."

"Well, no. You're the mother. I'm just the aunt," Amelia quips. "It's not that I don't want to be there, because I do. Zola's the first of my nieces I've gotten to spend time with because my sisters think I'm a bad influence and won't let me near their kids. I love her to death, and the thought of not being there hurts. But yeah, I can't be there. Not if my mother is going to be there."

Meredith rolls her eyes and suddenly blurts, "I invited Maggie."

"You what?" Amelia gasps, remembering just last night/early this morning how Meredith had so adamantly demanded that she not refer to Maggie as her sister.

"Yeah, I know," Meredith sighs. "But if I have to put up with _my sister_." Meredith gulps at the s-word. "You can put up with your mother. Deal?"

"You see, it's not exactly the same," Amelia starts. "You didn't know about Maggie for thirty-six years, whereas I've known my mother my whole life. You and Maggie don't have history. My mother and I, uh-huh…over thirty years of history there."

"Oh for Pete's sake," Meredith rolls her eyes. Amelia is tempted to say _Pete's already dead_, though she knows Meredith wouldn't understand the reference. Pete, of course, being a guy who used to work with her in Los Angeles. Meredith growls, "You're going."

Amelia, too, rolls her eyes, and it's then that her eyes land on the manila envelope along with paperwork presenting as lab results on top of her brother's desk. She figures Meredith was looking at the results before she intruded. Amelia wonders if Meredith, too, is looking into an old case of Derek's.

Meredith appears to notice where Amelia's eyes have landed, and quickly - but not before Amelia realizes she is looking at a sonogram image with the name _Grey, M_ on the label - Meredith slides the paperwork in the envelope. Amelia lets out an excited gasp.

"You're..."

* * *

><p>"Let's get one thing clear," Meredith fumes, cutting Amelia off before she can finish her sentence as she realizes her sister-in-law has just laid eyes on the sonogram image. Glee erodes Amelia's face, and Meredith cringes furiously. "You saw nothing, okay? Nothing. Now, I don't care where you got your damn key, but if you don't tell me what you're doing in here right this second, I will tell Derek that you were poking around in his office without his permission."<p>

She doesn't really mean that, though, because that would require having an actual conversation with Derek, and Derek would want to know what _she _was doing in his office in the first place. Amelia doesn't know that, though. Right now, Meredith's primary concern is instilling fear in her sister-in-law so she won't blab to the rest of the world what she's just seen.

"Relax, I can keep a secret. If anyone can keep a secret, it's me." Amelia's face lights up with pride. Then she lifts an eyebrow, perplexed. "Derek doesn't know yet, does he?"

"You saw nothing, remember? And you've completely dodged my question," Meredith replies solemnly, dodging Amelia's question. "I'm not joking about telling Derek."

Amelia laughs. "I'm not scared of you, Meredith. You might be able to fool other people with that stern, angry face you've got going on. But you can't fool me, and you won't tell Derek because you, like me, want to kill him with your bare hands. I'm not an idiot."

Meredith exhales. In this moment, she wants to strangle Amelia, but at the same time, she trusts Amelia won't tell anyone about what she's just seen.

"Okay, fine," Meredith gives up trying to scare her sister-in-law and trusts that she'll keep her lips zipped. "But seriously, what are you doing in here?"

"I'm, um, looking for some information regarding one of Derek's former patients," Amelia replies.

"Most of that should be in the computer system, so nice try. You can tell me the truth. I won't tell anyone. We can, uh, be each other's secret keepers or whatever," Meredith says flatly, feeling like a junior high student with her use of the term _secret keeper_.

"I'm actually looking for some of his notes on his clinical trial. Those aren't in the system. I checked," Amelia responds sincerely.

"Clinical trial?" Meredith freezes, suddenly reminded of the pain that had stewed after she'd ruined the Alzheimer's trial; losing the trial, getting Derek and Richard blacklisted by the FDA, and almost losing Zola and her marriage in the heat of it all. All of that devastation fell on her shoulders. She was the one to blame for all of the Alzheimer's trial aftermath. _Like everything bad that ever happens to them, apparently. _ Meredith swallows, wondering why the hell Amelia would want Derek's notes on his Alzheimer's trial. "Are you planning on continuing the Alzheimer's clinical trial?"

"The what?" Meredith can tell Amelia clearly has no idea what she is even talking about. "I'm talking about his malignant glioma trial. The one that got him published."

"Oh." Meredith breathes a sigh of relief, but _why _would Amelia want those notes? The trial was a success. That was the trial that had opened her eyes and made her realize that she and Derek needed each other. _That they could be extraordinary together rather than ordinary apart. _"I worked on the trial with Derek. My name's on the reprinted version of it, actually. Maybe I can answer your questions?"

"I'm not sure what I'm looking for, to be honest. It's just...Beth Monroe was admitted this morning. She was having persistent headaches, so I sent her up to radiology for at CT and an MRI. I don't have the results back yet, but after reviewing the file, I'm preparing for that outcome. And, I thought I'd look at Derek's notes. If it is indeed malignant, depending on how advanced it is, we won't have much time. So, I wanted to get a head start…"

Amelia's voice is drowned by Meredith's loud, screaming thoughts. Beth Monroe had made their clinical trial a success, and now Amelia Shepherd was standing here before her, telling her that their success may have only been temporary? Meredith's stomach twists and turns; cold sweat drips from her forehead. She clasps her hands together. Her head is spinning.

_The miracle is over. _Something Alex had said to her resonates in her brain. _We're not a miracle, _her response replays in her head.

And then her phone vibrates.

Derek's bright smiling face lights up her screen, and just for a split second, she's taken back to a much happier time. The happiness doesn't last for more than a split second, though, as it's not long before reality sinks in.

She gives Amelia a quick glance as she answers the phone. "Hello?" She prepares for her husband to tell her that he's just landed in Seattle.

"Hey, I was just calling to let you know that we made it. We just stepped off the terminal, actually," Derek's muffled voice enters her ear; she can hear the static noise from the airport in the background.

"Uh...that's great. I'm glad you're safe," she says, remembering that she hasn't had time to pick up Zola's piñata or order ahead the pizza so it's ready when she leaves work. She'd initially planned to leave around noon, which would give her plenty of time to pick up everything she needed for the party.

Her fight with Derek last night had thrown her entire day off. She wouldn't have normally scheduled an OB appointment on her daughter's birthday, but she was angry at Derek and it led to her irrationally calling her OB at five in the morning, pleading for her to pencil her in for an consult for a tubal litigation. Lack of sleep can make anyone behave irrationally.

Oh, how her day has been turned upside down.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your shopping," Derek says. His voice is calm and sincere.

"Shopping. Right," she mumbles, then admits, "I'm still at the hospital."

"Oh. Did you get pulled in on an emergency case?"

"Something like that," she answers. She's not exactly lying.

"Something like that? What's _that _supposed to mean?" Derek's voice is harsher, though she also senses confusion and maybe a little worry. Though, surely it's not _her _he's worried about. He's worried about the party not being ready, which admittedly, has just crossed her mind, and she starts to worry too. She won't be able to live with herself if Zola's party is a disaster because she got side tracked.

"It means just what I said," Meredith responds on point.

"Okay, whatever. I'm guessing since you're still at the hospital, then our house isn't a birthday shrine, waiting for me to get home. Am I correct? Where's Amy?"

Meredith looks up at Amelia. "She's with me."

"Of course she is," Derek scoffs.

"You know, you could pick up the stuff, too. Why do I have to do all the shopping? I've done everything for the last month, Derek. I've wiped your kids' tears when they cried when I told them you weren't coming home those nights, kissed their booboos when they fell down, changed your son's diapers and done your daughter's hair every morning. I've done it all. There's no reason you can't pick up a piñata and a couple pizzas on your way home. Or is _that _too hard for you?"

"Excuse me?" Derek barks. "I just got off a five-hour plane ride, even though it's only three hours later than it was when I left; I have jet lag; oh, and I was _hoping _to spend some time with my children, whom I haven't seen in almost a month outside of my computer screen. Oh, and since it's four o'clock on the East Coast right now, I skipped breakfast and lunch, so I'm starving."

"Oh, you poor big baby," Meredith rolls her eyes.

"I'm not going to fight with you, Meredith. My mother is standing nearby," Derek says, his voice shifts into a harsh whisper.

"What? Don't want your mother to overhear how you talk to your wife?"

"Meredith…" Derek argues. His voice softens. "Time out. Not now, okay? We can fight until your heart is content later. I promise."

There's a momentary pause.

"Take the kids with you," Meredith suggests in a calmer voice. "They won't mind. It'll be fun, and they'll _love _ seeing their father." She smirks fiendishly, thinking of all the fun Derek could have shopping with their very active, very hyper four-year-old daughter and their sometimes very fussy, very messy nineteen-month-old son. _So, so much fun. _

Her heart skips with devious pleasure at the thought of the pain Derek might possibly endure. For the first time ever, she can only hope that they will behave like they did the last time she took them shopping. She thinks there's a good chance of that happening, since both were up late and Zola is _very _excited about her birthday. She laughs to herself, thinking of all the joy Derek will have taking them shopping. Maybe, just maybe, he'll understand her pain a little better.

"Fine," Derek grumbles. "Mom and I will pick them up from daycare and we'll pick up a piñata and a couple pizzas. Is there anything else I should get?"

"Well, there's no food in the house," she confides, though he should know that she hadn't had time to go shopping since last night.

"Of course there isn't," he sighs.

"And Amelia was going to bake the cake, but considering she's standing right here, I don't think that happened. So you'll need to pick up a cake or something. I'm sure Zola won't mind a store bought cake," Meredith continues, eying Amelia, who nods grimly to indicate that Meredith speaks the truth.

Meredith is not sure how she feels about Zola having a store bought cake, since every cake she remembers having as a child was store bought. That's why she at least attempted to bake Zola's first birthday cake, even though it hadn't turned out the best. You can't go wrong with cake, can you? Okay, so baking isn't her strong suit. Derek took over the baking duties for Zola's second and third birthday cakes, along with Bailey's first birthday.

Amelia had volunteered to bake Zola's birthday cake, but clearly her day had also gone not as planned.

"My car is at home, and I'm at the airport," Derek says dryly, clearly looking for excuses to avoid the shopping expedition.

"You can catch a cab to the hospital, right? Then you can take mine. My keys are in my locker. I'm parked in your spot, so you can't miss my car. I'll ride home with Amelia. No biggie," Meredith says, sending a defiant smile in Amelia's direction. Now Amelia _can't _escape the birthday party. Amelia squints, glaring viciously back at her, seeming to know Meredith's exact intentions. Meredith winks.

Derek scoffs. "Great. I'll pick up the kids and we'll head to the Mall." Derek's voice is anything but enthusiastic.

"Target had some cute piñatas last time I was there," Meredith suggests, but the line goes dead before Derek can respond or either say goodbye. Meredith eyes Amelia.

Both know that it's time to prepare themselves for Typhoon Shepherd to hit.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: And let the storm begin! I hope you guys love Amelia as much as I do, because she will play a fairly large role in this story (For those of you who have read my stories or follow me Twitter, you'll know she's one of my favorite characters besides MerDer). I was deeply disappointed by Amelia's absence in 11x06, so this chapter comes as perfect timing (It was actually written long before 11x06 aired). Luckily, MerDer made up for her absence. Speaking of MerDer, I know you're all dying for Meredith and Derek's first face-to-face confrontation in this story, and I can assure you, it will be worth the wait! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Nicole's A/N: Welcome back! I hope you're still with us. I think you'll feel [a little] sympathy for Derek this chapter, at least I did. You can thank Irene for everything in this chapter, as she wrote it. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

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><p>Carolyn feels a pang in her chest as she sees the new name of the hospital her son used to work in before moving to DC, memories of her other adopted son coming to mind.<p>

She remembers the first time Derek brought him home. Mark lived right down the street from them, and while he and Derek were playing together in his backyard, Mark fell from his bike and hurt his knee. Derek, as worried as he was because of all the blood, brought him home, arguing that his mother was a nurse and she would know for sure how to make it better. During that summer, Mark ended up staying more at their house than with his always busy parents, and Derek found a brother. Now only a name on a wall reminds these people of how much Mark was loved.

Still, today is not a day for mourning, it's a day for joy; she has mourned Mark already, now she needs to be present in the moment.

She follows Derek through the halls, and he's confident in his stride. People look at him, some smile, others are scowling, a few greet him warmly. Still, he doesn't stop for more than a quick hello, eager to see his own children.

Carolyn sighs deeply, feeling giddy and a little scared by the fact that this would be the very first time she meets her grandbabies in the flesh. She has always wondered why Derek never invited her over, or maybe why she has been too scared to pack her bags and fly to Seattle to meet them all.

With Zola, it was all pretty sudden, and they didn't have much time before they were going to be re-evaluated again, their story of loss and gain a pretty painful one. Still, when they first showed her Zola through a late night Skype session, Zola had been in tears and teething, but Carolyn was sure she had never seen a little girl as beautiful as her. She gave them advice for teething - Derek almost cried in relief at the mention of freezing the teething rings - and Zola had cracked the first smile of her day when she made a face.

From that moment onwards, Carolyn always tried to make time for her grandchildren through Skype, but she has always been hesitant in flying over. She would have been present after Bailey was born, if Meredith hadn't had major surgery, and there hadn't been a super storm just a few hours before. Then the chance passed, and she has seen Bailey grow up through a screen, just like Zola.

Now they're about to come out of the daycare door, and she has no idea how to act. Her grandchildren all love her because she's been around from day one, how will Zola and Bailey act towards her? Are they going to hate her? Will they warm up to her right away?

She sees Derek light up like a Christmas tree when the door opens and she sucks in a deep breath.

Zola is the first one to come out, in a long-sleeved long shirt and black leggings, her little legs propelling her so fast she's almost flying.

"Daddy!" she squeals, opening her arms wide, launching herself towards equally open arms.

"Happy birthday, baby girl!" Derek grins as he crouches to fit the girl in his arms, nuzzling his neck into the elaborate braid framing her head.

"I misseded you so so much!" Zola whispers, holding onto him tightly. "I'm four now!" she exclaims, proudly showing him her four fingers, standing up tall as she pulls away. "I no little girl no more."

Derek laughs. "I know you're getting big, Zola."

"You were gone for so many sleeps…" Zola sighs, and so does Derek.

"I know I was, but I'm here now. I came back to see you blow out all the candles and open all of your presents."

"Oh Daddy, are you a present?"

Derek laughs, kissing her cheek. "I'm your daddy, _you_ are my present."

Zola giggles, kissing his stubble then giggling even louder. She squishes his cheeks into her hands, laughing at his hint of a beard, her deep chocolate eyes boring into Derek's, making Carolyn feel like that little girl is wiser beyond her years.

"Daddy, you goin' away again now?"

"Of course not, I have a party to get to." Derek is smiling, but it looks a little more forced, a little harder to let out.

"And later? It won't be a party forever, Mama said so. Mama said bedtime is not going to change, not because I'm four now."

Zola pouts, but Carolyn wants to giggle. She likes that her daughter-in-law is enforcing bedtime and keeping the discipline even as a single parent. She has the doubt Derek is a little hopeless in disciplining the kids, especially when they know how to woo him with the looks Zola has been giving him from the very first moment they have met.

Derek doesn't answer Zola's question, and he seems relieved when one of the daycare teachers gets out of the same room, carrying a little boy and two small backpacks and jackets.

Carolyn recognizes Bailey right away.

Derek might say his son looks like Meredith, but right there Carolyn can only see Derek, apart from the blond hair and the straighter nose. The eyes definitely have the Shepherd boys' twinkle, the same twinkle that made her fall in love with Christopher all those years ago.

"Dada!" Bailey squeals right in Derek's ear as he picks up the boy from the woman's arms, grabbing the backpacks in the process.

"Hey, little man. How are you doing?" Derek whispers, squeezing the boy as tightly as he has squeezed Zola, though he keeps one of his hands around Zola's shoulder to keep her close.

Carolyn feels tears in her eyes as she watches Zola hide into her father's sweater, holding onto him, while Bailey strikes up a babbled conversation with him, poking his face and yanking at his hair. Her little boy is officially a father, and she reminds her so much of her late husband she lets a lone tear slide down her cheek.

"You know what I brought with me just for you, Zozo?" Derek bends down again, using a loud whisper to talk to Zola, keeping the secrecy. The girl is enchanted.

"A unicorn, Daddy?"

Derek laughs, and so does Carolyn. Of course her granddaughter kick for _Despicable Me _and Agnes would show up in her requests.

"Better. Nana is way better than a unicorn."

Her son turns towards her with the first real smile she has seen on him since they have met at the train station, and she wishes things were different for him, life a little easier, so that he could keep that wonderful smile always on his face.

"Nana?" Zola frowns, looking up, and then her mouth shapes into a surprised circle, her eyes going wide, before she shouts: "Nana!"

She runs towards her with the same excitement she has greeted her father, and Carolyn is taken aback by the softness of her embrace in all that whirlwind of energy. She picks her up, and Zola hooks her legs around her torso, grasping her tightly as she nuzzles her face into the crook of her neck.

"Oh, Nana," she sighs, squeezing her.

"Happy birthday, Zola," she replies, her voice cracking at the end.

"Oh, Daddy, Nana is the bestest present!"

Derek laughs, but so does Carolyn, as she holds her granddaughter in her arms for a little bit more, then she deposits her on the floor. Zola doesn't want to let go of her though, and she immediately grabs her hand.

"Na!" Bailey bellows from his father's arms, filling Carolyn's heart with joy.

"Come here," she grins, grabbing the boy from Derek, holding him tightly with only one arms. "You look just like your daddy, though for your sake you have gotten Mommy's good nose."

Bailey giggles, studying her hair with fascination, as Zola laughs at her father's pout.

"Oh I'm going to take them back with me to New York, you and Meredith can make some more," she laughs, noticing how dark her son's eyes are all of a sudden. She'll have to investigate that later. She's sure something is going on between him and Meredith, because she's the only one that can bring him into such a depressed pit, since she can lift his spirits so high. She's perfect for him, especially because she can make him so broody.

"What do you say, would you like to go ahead and buy some party stuff?" Derek proposes, his tone starting to fill with a little of the excitement of before, the dark look dissipating.

Zola's squeal definitely makes everybody a little happier.

One of the daycare teachers exits, a set of keys in her hands as Carolyn helps the kids with their jackets, hearing their little conversations and ignoring Derek for a moment, so that she could take in her newest grandchildren. She hopes to get to know them even better now that she's here with them.

"Alright, Mama gave Miss Wendell her car keys this afternoon, so we're good to go," Derek says, jingling the keyring as he picks up Bailey from the floor. "Shopping, here we come!"

* * *

><p>The sliding glass doors of the mall of their choice look daunting. People going in and out, rolling carts, screaming children…<p>

Yeah, one of the screaming children belongs to him.

"Zola, stop it." He pulls a little at the hand of his daughter, trying to keep her from running away. Zola keeps yanking at his hand, the reproach not fazing her in the least.

"Daddy, princess rainbow cake! I want princess rainbow cake!"

Derek takes a deep breath, for a millisecond wondering if this is what Meredith had to deal with for the entire duration of his stay in DC. For her sake, he wishes it's not. He might hate her, but this is a much too big torture to inflict on anyone. His kids weren't so hyperactive last month, he had clearly missed a lot. Surely, he was expecting Bailey to be a little more steady on his feet, but the energy his now-four-year-old daughter has is nothing his mind could imagine.

"Princess Rainbow? Is she a new princess you like?" _Did he miss a new toy coming out while he was in DC as well?_

Zola rolls her eyes. _She rolls her eyes!_ "Not a toon, Daddy. Do you know what a rainbow cake is?"

Derek looks lost.

"It's a cake with sooo many pieces and sooo many colors!" Zola tries to explain, her hands waiving in the air and almost hitting two people passing by her.

"The one with layers of food coloring, Derek." His mother finally comes back from changing Bailey's diaper, the little stinker smiling brightly and squirming from his spot on her hip.

Derek sighs in relief.

"Daddy, they have my cake!" Zola grabs his hand once again, pulling him towards a family-friendly bakery with a full display of pink and white cupcakes. Zola is already drooling at the sight in front of her. "Mama got my daycare cupcakes here, Daddy!"

Derek nods, pleased. It's a Meredith-approved store, he can't go wrong in buying a cake here.

"Looks promising, let's go in," Carolyn comments with a smile, taking Zola's hand and going inside with one child on each side.

Derek stares at them for a moment before following them, his heart fluttering. He had dreamed for his whole life the moment his mother would be holding his children's hands as she took a walk with them. He had seen her do it with all his sisters' kids, he has done it himself, and yet, he can hardly believe his mother is there to do so with his children, the children he never imagined he could have.

"Dada!" Bailey shrieks, slamming his drooly hand over a glass display with more cupcakes, this time decorated with Sesame Street characters. Of course Bailey is drooling over Elmo…The kid can keep dreaming though, he's not going to get any sugar in his system yet.

"Daddy, look!" Zola shouts from the other end of the store, making him blush. She's bouncing on her feet as she points at a princess in front of her Derek notices is nestled in the cake only when he gets closer. "I want that!"

"It's rainbow cake inside, sir." One of the store assistants sneaks next to him, her voice low enough not to be heard over Zola's excited talking with her grandmother. There's no way he's getting his daughter a cake with more chemicals than eggs in it.

"It's too big, Zola," he says. Zola's face falls, her eyes filling with tears.

"Daddy," she gulps, her smile turning into a miserable frown in a split second.

"Do you like carrot cake, Zo?" He tries to suggest an alternative, but Zola is already sniffling.

"No, Daddy."

"You like carrots, sweetie. You'd like carrot cake."

Zola shakes her head again.

"What if Nana bakes a cake for you?" Carolyn interjects, throwing a look at her son. He looks desperate.

"Can you make da princess rainbow cake?" Zola sniffles again, chocking back a sob.

Carolyn shakes her head with a smile. "No, but I make a mean chocolate cake."

"I don't want no mean cake, Nana."

Carolyn laughs, crouching to be at her eye level, no matter the old age aches. "You need to listen to your Daddy, he knows what you really need for the party."

"Daddy knows no cakes. Mama knows all the cakes 'cause she eats them all with me."

Carolyn laughs again. "Your Daddy likes to eat healthy stuff, but that doesn't mean you and Mommy can't enjoy some cake he likes together."

"But the princess rainbow cake is the best!"

"I'll make it for you next year, okay? I'll find the recipe and all the ingredients and I'll make it for you. For now, listen to your daddy. Maybe there's a healthy princess cake you like even more…"

"Not possible." Zola shakes her head dramatically, avoiding to look at her father as she goes back to stare at the princess cake in the display.

Derek sighs, feeling defeated. Could it be that Zola resents him? Is this her way to tell him that she missed him? Because he doesn't remember her being so difficult before he left, or this deep level of helplessness following.

Zola shuffles back closer then, her eyes still misty, but the sobs gone. "Daddy, you like ice cream, right?" Derek nods, attempting a smile. "What if we try to find a rainbow ice cream cake?"

Zola beams, her mood shifting brusquely once again. Toddlers' mood swings are almost worse than the mood swings Meredith had when she was pregnant with Bailey. Still, she almost makes him cave for the ice cream cake, winter or not.

"Zola, it's January, they don't make ice cream cakes."

"Not true. I saw one with Mama when we went to the other store." Zola pouts, staring Derek down.

His daughter is too smart for her own good. "They don't have them in this store."

"We go back to Mommy's store," Zola says. She doesn't cave easily, and he suspect spending all that time with Meredith alone had an influence on that personality trait.

"We're buying the cake here, Lovebug, we don't have much time."

"Daddy you can have yucky coffee. Mama eated all your leftover yucky coffee ice cream when we watched _Mulan_ twice!" Zola cringes at the memory, and Derek feels even more puzzled. Meredith hates coffee ice cream. Well, maybe it was the only one in the fridge, since she can't bother to go grocery shopping anymore.

"No Zola, no ice cream cake."

"You no fun." She frowns, then moves away from him and picks up her grandmother's hand once again.

Carolyn sends Derek a long glare, before she focuses fully on her grandchildren. Derek feels helpless once again. Zola and his mother keep chatting in secretive whispers, Zola's unhappiness melting away as Carolyn works her magic on her.

The next time Zola goes back to Derek's side she's skipping, her long shirt bouncing around her in the motion, and only then Derek notices how grownup she looks now that she's officially four years old.

"Daddy, we can get the piñata now," she exclaims, taking his hand much to his surprise, but of course it's only to lead him out of the bakery.

"Sweetie, you need a cake, we'll find one we both like."

"Nana will make one for me. And I can help!"

_That_ is the reason for the bouncing then. "Really?" he asks, glancing towards his mother. She nods, pleased.

"Choco cake, Daddy!" Zola's eyes are twinkling. Derek groans. At least chocolate is more natural than food coloring, and his mother will make it from scratch, he can eat a small slice. One thing he's sure of, Meredith will devour half of it. Maybe he should tell his mother to make two cakes, just in case…

He chuckles between himself as Zola leads him straight to the piñata aisle in Target, bouncing on a vicarious sugar high from the bakery shop. Derek is already exhausted by the time they reach the colorful aisle full of piñatas in every shape and size, the variety colors almost hurting his tired eyes. The jet lag and the practically sleepless night are starting to catch up with him, and all the energy Zola has is surely draining him, especially if he doesn't eat something soon.

"Daddy, a rainbow!"

_Oh please Lord, not again_.

Derek sighs deeply before standing next to Zola in front of a rainbow-shaped piñata, Disney princesses stuck over the colors, Zola's face telling him that _this_ is the only piñata she will compromise for.

The colorful papery mess ends up in their cart, and Zola squeals in delight.

"Okay, we just need some party plates to eat the cake then we're good to go," he says more to himself than to anyone else.

"Over there," his mother points at a far-away aisle, much to Derek's dismay. "I'll go with Zola," Carolyn says, since the girl had already took off.

Derek sighs, turning around to grab Bailey and move along, only Bailey is not there.

"Bailey, buddy?" he asks the shelves and the party piñatas, wishing they'd give him an answer. He turns the corner, hoping his son had just wandered off, but he's not in the aisles next to the one they were in either. Those little feet are definitely faster now.

He crosses half of the store, looking for his little boy, a lump forming in his throat. What if he lost him? What if they kidnapped him? He's working for the president now, maybe they already want him dead, what would Meredith say? It took them so much heartache to have him, she'll never forgive him for losing their perfect son.

He frantically joins his mother in the party supplies aisle, feeling tears in his eyes, trying to remain collected in front of a very oblivious Zola. "I think they took Bailey, Ma."

"What?" Carolyn frowns at the terrified outburst.

"I looked for him everywhere, we kept our eyes away from him for a second and he disappeared! What if they kidnapped him for ransom?"

Carolyn looks at him with raised eyebrows, cocking her head. "I'll be right back."

"Ma!" Derek calls after her, but she's a woman on a mission, she doesn't even turn back.

Zola is on a mission too, though.

"Oh, Daddy, I want these plates…"

Derek looks up at the ceiling for a moment, pushing back the tears, trying not to shake too much as Zola hands him a set of paper plates just as bright as the piñata. A punch in his eyes would hurt less than the pattern on them, but Zola is making puppy dog eyes at him and swaying a little in her spot in that cute shrug-like motion Meredith does sometimes. He's powerless against that.

The colorful plates end up in the cart just as Carolyn returns, a giggling Bailey against her hip. Derek's eyes widen.

"He's his father's son," she laughs, "he was hiding under the skirts of the gowns in aisle five."

"What?" Derek frowns, grabbing him from his mother's arms and squeezing him tightly, squishing his cheeks with kisses. Bailey squeals in protest.

"Derek, you used to escape from your father all the time when you went to a clothing store, and he could always find you playing peek-a-boo with unsuspecting customers between long gowns," Carolyn recounts with a laugh, which triggers Bailey's laugh as well.

"I did not." Derek frowns, putting Bailey in the baby seat in the cart and pushing it towards the exit, scoffing a little.

Zola is having the time of her life as his mother tells her even more embarrassing stories of him as a child, but he moves away not to relieve them all. Once in his life was enough, especially if she'll tell Zola the time he dropped his pants right in the middle of Walmart just because Lizzie dared him to.

He feels relieved when they are checking out, her mother is busy trying to restrain the kids just a little longer as he pays for their stuff. They reach the car without further meltdowns or disappearances, and Derek sighs in relief as soon as they finally wrestle everything in Meredith's Mercedes, kids included.

Zola and Bailey are practically snoring before they back out of the parking lot, and blissful silence fills the car.

"So, when are you and Meredith having another one of these?" Carolyn chortles, glancing at the kids through the rearview mirror.

Derek gulps, sighing deeply, trying to avoid his mother's gaze, and she stops laughing right away.

"What is it, Derek?"

"I don't think we'll ever have more." Hie eyes darken, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, the lump in his throat growing larger and larger.

He feels his mother's questioning gaze on him, piercing his soul like he's a five year old cookie stealer once again, only this time the lie weighs on him like an albatross.

"Did something happen to Meredith with that rough delivery when Bailey was born?" Carolyn looks genuinely concerned, and Derek has no idea how he can keep lying to her. It worries him that it comes so easily now, compared to when he was five.

"We're swamped, Mom," he says, almost as if it were enough. It surely isn't for him. He doesn't want to fight with Meredith again, for the millionth time, but this is something they can't avoid. He can't just archive his whole future with a single surgery, without him even having a say. He deserves an opinion. Meredith voices hers pretty loudly lately, after all.

"Children are a blessing, swamped or not."

Derek lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, unable to reply to her. They don't get blessings, they exhausted their quota with Bailey.

The car ride becomes a quiet, awkward one, Derek too afraid to speak up, Carolyn looking concerned until he kills off the engine in the garage.

Derek takes a deep breath as he stares at the familiar beige wall in front of him, closing his eyes for a moment, just the kids' shallow breathing filling the air.

He really missed being home.

"We'll grab the kids later, let's get the party stuff first. Shopping is tiring, they need their energy for the party," his mother says, glancing softly at him before she closes the door as gently as possible and comes to stand in front of their back door, one bag in each hand.

Derek grabs the piñata before opening the door for her, then they make their way towards the kitchen and living room.

Derek is surprised by how neat the house looks, compared to the previous night, and for a split second wonders how long it took Meredith to clean up everything, considering that at after their late night call it was all pretty much a mess. Not even a glass in the sink to indicate that somebody lives there.

"The house is beautiful, Derek." His mother's words echo a little in the empty, spotless rooms, and Derek realizes it's not really home until his family is in it. This is undoubtedly a beautiful house, like the apartment he's renting in DC, but the reason why this is home is asleep in the garage, or working at the hospital. DC will never feel like home unless his family is there with him.

"Looks even more stunning than it did when you gave me the Skype tour," Carolyn giggles, and Derek cracks a smile as well.

They deposit all the party stuff on the kitchen island, together with a refill of groceries of all kinds, before they go and wake the kids. Zola is able to stumble groggily into the house, while Bailey still needs a little more time on Derek's shoulder to wake up properly.

Zola is back to her very awake, very hyper self in no time, especially since Carolyn grabs an apron and starts gathering the ingredients for the cake.

Derek busies himself with the decoration of the playroom, marveling once more at how spotless the place is. He hasn't seen the playroom so clean since the day they moved in. He feels almost bad for scattering some of the decorations packages on the floor while he blows balloons or prepares the party hats.

He's in the middle of hanging up the streamers when he hears voices from the foyer and squeals from his children.

His whole family is home, now.

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><p><strong>Irene's AN: Well, I guess shopping with the kids is not the rosy affair Derek imagined it to be, uh? ;)**

**I hope you enjoyed seeing Derek from the POV of his mother, you know how much I like writing Carolyn, and it was interesting to be in her shoes during this moment, when she actually met Zola and Bailey. It has always upset me a little that she never met the kids, nor came back for Mark's funeral, so...**

**Alright, the birthday party is almost ready, all the supplies are there, the cake is being baked, and the family is home. Stay tuned to see how it is going to play out! And I know you want to see Meredith and Derek talk face to face, it's going to happen, just be patient a little more!**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing and remember that even if I write on part and Nicole does another (like we did with chapter 4 and 5), it doesn't mean that it's not a joined effort! The flow of ideas is incredible, and each paragraph is most likely the product of that.**

**Have a good Sunday!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Irene's A/N: There's a party and YOU are invited!**

**No, seriously, there is going to be a party, and you guys will have a blast. You have been very patient with Meredith and Derek in two separate places for 5 chapters, so now you _might_ get your reward. Also, I want to say, just for the sake of our reputation, that we do not use drugs. Just read on to find out why...  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

* * *

><p>Meredith is welcomed home by the sweet smell of baked goods. Usually, she would salivate and make a beeline for the kitchen; tonight it only makes her want to hurl. Okay, she's starving, but she's sure that in the kitchen there's Mama Shepherd, and <em>that<em> makes her stomach clench in fear.

Mama Shepherd is inside her house, and there's still dust above the kitchen cabinets. She totally forgot about the kitchen cabinets at three-forty-five in the morning when she was re-checking her cleaning work.

Carolyn is going to hate her now.

"Mama!" she hears, before a three-feet-five body could slam against her. Meredith winces for a moment when Zola's elbow hits her stomach. This is going to be a long evening.

"Hey there, birthday girl, did you have fun today?"

"Oh Mama, I had the best of fun!" Zola exclaims, and Meredith can finally see the streak of flour over her cheek and the white powder embedded in her braids.

"I bet you did." She sighs, trying to clean her up the best she can, which only makes Zola giggle harder, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Nana is making my cake!" Zola grins, her eyes darting back towards the kitchen. "I help!"

"Are you a good helper?" she asks, for a second regretting that Amelia's gift is still under wraps. Zola nods eager.

As soon as she thinks about Amelia, the woman shows up behind her, carrying a grocery bag and smiling brightly.

"Happy birthday, Zola!" Amelia uses as her greeting, and Zola beams.

"A present!"

Amelia laughs loudly, Zola's enthusiasm contagious. "No, it's not a present, it's my dirty scrubs."

Zola eyes the bag warily, before she grimaces. "Eww!"

Amelia laughs even louder as Zola disappears back in the kitchen, though she sobers up when she finally notices Meredith's panic. Oh yeah, she's in full-on I-need-my-tequila panic. Except she has an embryo in her uterus, and it doesn't mix well with tequila.

"We forgot the top of the kitchen cabinets," Meredith blurts, eying Amelia with eyes wide.

"What?" Amelia looks genuinely confused as she shreds her coat and leaves her shoes at the door.

"Last night. We didn't clean the top of the kitchen cabinets!"

Amelia looks at her almost as if she had grown three heads. "Meredith, my mother is not six feet tall, and even if she were, how can she see on top of the cabinets?"

"I don't know! Maybe she senses the dust there. Maybe she's deathly allergic to dust and I'm about to send her into anaphylactic shock!" _Oh god, do they even have an epi pen in the house?_

"Mom is not allergic to dust, I promise."

"I'm not, dear, don't worry." Carolyn exits from the kitchen cleaning her hands on her apron -well, Derek's apron,- a gentle smile on her features. She gives her a once over, and Meredith feels naked, definitely naked. "It's good to see you, Meredith."

Carolyn voice doesn't sound menacing, but Meredith is trembling like a leaf as she tries a tentative, forced smile. She probably looks like a freak.

"I'm glad you could make it out for Zola." Meredith has no idea where her voice comes from, but all of a sudden, as she tries to get Amelia's support, she notices that she's now alone in the foyer with her mother-in-law.

"I've been looking forward to seeing you all," Carolyn says with a dazzling smile that looks so much like Derek's.

"Nana, the oven dinged!" Zola yells from the kitchen, and Meredith takes a deep breath when Carolyn excuses herself to check on Zola's birthday cake.

Meredith is tempted to pull an Amelia and hide already, but it's Zola's birthday and she knows she has to play the host and be smiley. She just needs to push through a couple of hours, then she can go hide wherever she wants.

She hears a muffled thud followed by a muttered curse coming from the playroom and she breathes deeply once again. With the Carolyn drama, she totally forgot that her husband is already home. Se decides that they should keep the hostility to a minimum since there are children at the party and he did go out to get the supplies for the party, maybe he gets to sign a temporary truce.

Yet, when she sees the playroom she almost wants to cry. No truce for Derek Christopher.

_Did a unicorn barf in there?_

The rainbow streamers and colorful balloons were expected, even something Meredith was looking forward to, and the piñata looks cute enough to be smashed into tiny little pieces. Her eyes are probably bogging out as soon as she spots the plates and cups Derek has picked, though.

"Holy mother of rainbows," she mutters under her breath, but it's apparently loud enough to make Derek appear from behind the couch, a giggling Bailey slung on his shoulder.

Bailey escapes from Derek's hold to crawl towards her, and she welcomes her little boy in her arms with a smile. She breathes in his soft smell, smiles when he babbles something akin to an hello, then rests quietly against her for a beat, sated, which gives Meredith a moment to study her husband after a month apart.

He's dressed down, really dressed down, compared to the last few times she has seen him on Skype. Gone is the suit and tie, replaced by a soft indigo t-shirt that hugs his torso in all the right places and a pair of sweatpants, striped thick socks as the finishing touch. His hair is a little unkempt, his stubble practically a beard now, his eyes tired.

For a split second, Meredith is glad that he's there, as she represses the urge to kiss him senseless. Then she remembers the plates, and she's fuming.

She opens her mouth to yell, but the doorbell rings, shifting their attention away from one another.

"I'll go; it's probably the pizza," she says, unable to look one second more at the hideous pattern of the plates or at the puppy dog face Derek is making. She puts down Bailey and heads again for the foyer, grabbing her wallet before she opens the door.

Behind the wooden barrier, a twenty-something guy barely peeks from a stack of six boxes, his grin forced.

"Shepherd, right?" Meredith nods, frowning. "Three cheese, two pepperoni, one vegetarian."

_Of course he got the vegetarian_. She rolls her eyes as she pays, fuming as she carries the boxes in the playroom. Who in their right frame of mind would buy six boxes of pizza? They barely get one when they're eating as a family, how many kids does he thinks she has invited?

Bailey is nowhere in sight when she gets back, her back pulling a little as she puts the boxes on the table, next to the hallucination-inducing plates. Right, Connie said no heavy lifting and no stress. She's really following doctor's orders.

She groans when she sees the pattern of the plate up close and personal, grimacing in disgust at the haphazard mix of colors to create that trip-like rainbow. Has Derek started to smoke joints in DC? Or maybe LSD? 'Cause those plates can only come straight out of a drug-induced trip.

"God, where did you get these?" she wrinkles her nose as she asks Derek, her husband looking up from the stack of the not surprisingly rainbow napkins he's arranging in a rainbow shape. Has he gone mental in the month he's been away? Did the president choose him as a test subject rather than a doctor for his BRAIN project?

"Oh Mommy, the pizza is here!" Zola bounces in the room, and Meredith swears she has never seen her that excited.

"I know, Lovebug. I paid for it."

Zola laughs, eying the room with a pleased look on her face. "Do ya like all the colors? Daddy made me pick _everything_!"

"That's a lot of colors indeed, Zo," she swallows, trying not to grimace. Zola beams.

The doorbell rings again, and Zola bolts to the foyer, Derek hot on her heels.

He's not allowed to plan a party ever again.

"Look!" Zola squeals, snapping her out of the hypnosis the plates created in her tired brain.

Sofia and three other little girls are standing huddled at the threshold, their eyes wide in surprise and awe at the sight of the playroom.

"So many colors!" Sofia yelps, and the three little girls agree with distinctive nods of their heads.

The party is on.

She greets Callie curtly, and not because she's mad at the orthopedic surgeon, but because she can't see how much the plates clash with the rest of the room, or how crazy their pattern is. Nobody seems to notice that, except maybe Amelia, but she's too scared to come forward, in case her mother tries to talk to her. _Scaredy cat_.

"Do you want a slice?" Derek asks her with a nod towards the pizza box, and she almost Kevorkian him.

She grabs his arm and leads him out of the room and into the corridor, her eyes blazing.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Derek cowers. _Coward!_

"Where in hell did you find these?" she asks in an angry whisper, waving her hand towards his torso and his slice of pizza, resting like a gold coin on top of pigeon's poop over the plate.

"Target, like you suggested?" He's frowning, puzzled and clueless. God, she'll punch him before tonight.

"Derek, they're freaking hideous!" her whisper rises just a notch, before she can contain herself.

"Zola wanted them!"

"Zola wanted to buy a unicorn shaped cake mold and _of course_ I said no!"

"It's her birthday!"

"You're spoiling her!"

"It's. Her. Birthday!" he growls, his eyes a dark obsidian. He's so close and so angry she can feel his breath on her skin, and suddenly she misses his warmth, even when she's pissed beyond belief. He's practically pinned against the wall and she has so many old memories involving him in that position. She can't think of him like that when she has a point to prove, though. Still, he looks deliciously hot now that he has shaved and changed into a crisp blue shirt, his eyes making her gooey for him like the cheese on his pizza. _Focus!_

She pants slightly, still too shaken about the small confrontation, trying to keep herself in check. She can't behead him just yet, but after the party...oh, after the party she'll have a field day with him.

"Look, she took me by surprise, okay?" Derek tries to save himself, but it's too late. The plates are already containing pizza, it's way too late to apologize.

"What, did she sneak them in the cart?" Meredith rolls her eyes.

"She begged for them. And I was shaken up because I thought they had kidnapped Bailey, so…" he gulps, his eyes widening a little, his cheeks rosier.

"Kidnapped?"

"He was temporarily unaccounted for. I swear it was less than two minutes!" Derek hangs up his hands in the air.

"Was he hiding in between clothes?"

Derek's eyes widen, and Meredith knows the answer is right. He always does that recently, whenever they step into a clothing store. She rolls her eyes at his vivid imagination, then backs away from him a little.

"Let's get back, it's not like you can magically change the plates to a color that doesn't hurt my eyes at this point," she huffs, leaving him in the corridor as she goes back to mingle in the playroom.

"What are you doing?" She hears his curious whispered question as she moves closer to the table with the stack of plates he has carefully arranged.

"Grabbing a slice because I'm starving." She rolls her eyes as he puts himself between her and the plates.

"But you hate the plates?!"

"Oh, for the love of God, give me a slice!" she tries to push past him, but he persists. "I want a slice of pizza, dammit!"

She finally reaches her prize, the cheesy gooey fragrance sticking to her nostrils as she leaves Derek behind. She's salivating.

As soon as she's halfway through the slice though, she feels her stomach rolling in protest at the introduction of food.

She totally blames the ugly plates for not letting her enjoy the pizza.

She feels tears sting her eyes. How could Derek ruin her love for pizza? In this moment she only loves her children more than she loves pizza and he goes and buys stupid trippy plates so that she cannot cheat on him with the slice of cheese pizza? Her stomach rolls again as soon as she attempts another bite, forcing her to lower the slice on the rainbowy mess.

"Mama I waited a whole two minutes to open my presents!" Zola jumps near her, and she wonders what she will be like after the sugar of the cake. It's going to be interesting indeed.

"Zola, you still haven't blown the candles yet."

"Mommy, please, can I open my presents?"

"Don't you want the birthday song?" Derek pitches in, for once coming to her rescue. Should she be grateful? No, not until he erases the memory of the plates from her mind.

"You can sing it before I open the presents."

"And what are we going to do when the cake comes?" Derek prods her again, and she's not caving. Meredith feels strangely proud.

"Sing again, Daddy!"

Derek gives in. He can't win against that look, and Zola at the age of four has already mastered it. Yes, Meredith is definitely proud.

"Okay, let's sing the birthday song!" Zola orders the people around, and they all form a circle around her and her presents.

She watches her daughter's delighted face as they all sing out of tune and almost out of sync, feeling even more proud then. She has a beautiful daughter, inside and out, and lately she has lost sight of her, overwhelmed as she was with all the stuff she had to do. It can't happen again.

"Which one do you want to open first?" Derek grins, directing the operation: presents.

"Oh, this one's pretty!" Zola points to a present wrapped in silver shiny paper, a pink ribbon around it. Derek beams.

"It's from Mommy and Daddy."

That one doesn't look like a paint easel at all, nor the box of craft supplies she told him to get. Not good.

Zola squeals as she tears the paper; gone was the careful little girl who opened Anatomy Jane the previous night. This evening Zola is intense in everything she does, even opening her presents. "Daddy!"

Meredith watches in horror as she unwraps one of those kid tablets with the sturdy handles and the stupid loud apps already there, and the urge to find a dozen new different ways to murder Derek gets stronger by the second. She tries to breath through that again, reasoning that she likes to play with their iPads sometimes, maybe it's time they stopped having to wipe out grease from the screen with Bailey's butt wipes.

Zola opens another present wrapped in purple, a nice set of three books coming out of the heavy paper, and the books make her breathe a little easier. The delight on Zola's face at the sight of the apron Amelia got her rights the world once again.

Next in line is another present wrapped up in expensive-looking paper, a present that makes Meredith frown. Is it from one of the Shepherd sisters?

"This is from Daddy," Derek says, his turn to beam. Meredith doesn't like the vibe of his grin one bit.

She can't believe her eyes as soon as Zola destroys the paper and tosses it aside.

"Amazing Allyson!" one of the little girls shouts, stunned.

Meredith feels like screaming. Derek bought her a seventy-freaking-five dollars worth of doll. That talks! Is he nuts?

Zola studies the doll with a gentle smile and Meredith feels nauseated once again. He's buying her daughter. He's totally buying their daughter with expensive presents now that he's not there for her. She wants to throw up, and it's not just the stupid pizza and the hideous plates now.

"Thank you, Daddy!" Zola grins, hugging him for a beat, then she runs out to who knows where, returning with Anatomy Jane in her hands. She puts the new super-cool doll next to her old and battered Anatomy Jane, and Meredith feels tears in her eyes at how it is an accurate representation of her life at the moment, where Derek is the cool one and she's just...Jane. She doesn't know juggling tricks or incredible stories, she barely figured out lullabies at this point, and he's just...He has it all. She will always be Jane, and she'll have to raise the kids alone when he's in DC. She doomed her kids to failure.

She sniffles, blinking back tears, choking back more nausea as she breathes in the pizza-flavored air, then her heart stops.

"Oh Daddy, my new dollies can be best friends!" Zola looks up at Meredith with the widest of smiles as she says that, cuddling Anatomy Jane close to her chest, and dismissing Amazing Allyson, leaving her to keep an eye on the already opened presents, taking Anatomy Jane back to the presents table with her and picking up another one.

She looks up at Derek, standing next to her, and he looks livid.

"Why would she want an ugly eighties doll over Amazing Allyson?" Meredith swears she hears her husband mutter under his breath. Meredith can't believe what she's hearing. She can't look at him. Who does he even think he is? She fights the urge to say something. It's Zola's moment, and she doesn't want to ruin it.

She watches as her daughter tears open another present.

"That's from me!" Sofia proudly announces.

It's the _Sofia the First: The Enchanted Feast _DVD.

"I really wanted this!" Zola cries out with excitement.

"What do you say, Zola?" Meredith hears Derek's soft sincere voice remind his daughter. _Nope, not looking at him_, she clenches her fists, resisting the urge to turn toward him. Meredith bites her lip and tries to control her stress levels, but that's much easier said than done. Who was Connie kidding? Telling her to keep her stress low was the biggest joke Meredith had ever heard. _Yeah, right._ Meredith knows she doesn't have a chance of lowering her stress levels any time soon, especially when her husband continues to act like a prick.

"Thank you, Sofia!" She gives her best friend a gallant hug. "Mommy, Daddy, can I watch this tonight before bed?"

"Of course, Lovebug." Meredith is quick to answer before Derek this time. She still can't look at him. _How dare he insult Anatomy Jane. _She knows it's just a stupid doll, but Anatomy Jane isn't ugly, and so what if their daughter prefers her over his stupid seventy-five dollar talking doll?

Her stomach bubbles, an overwhelming sense of vertigo whips through her at a rapid pace. The salt from the slice of pizza she'd eaten builds in her saliva, making her stomach churn even more. She leans against the playroom door. _Tomato sauce. Melted cheese_. The pizza scent fills her nostrils. She clasps her hand over her mouth.

Once Zola's gifts are all opened, Derek grabs an empty trash bag and begins piling the wrapping paper into the bag. Finally, an escape. She needs to get away from the pizza haze. Far, far away.

When she thinks no one is looking, she makes a dash up the stairs looking for a place to hide, even if just for a moment to calm herself down. She needs to regroup. Clear her head. Otherwise, she's going to end up murdering her husband while purging her insides all over his McDreamy, passive-aggressive face before this party is even over, kids or no kids. And she would rather not have a houseful of little eyewitnesses when she kills him, covered in vomit.

She passes the kids' bathroom, which is full of rubber duckies and other creepy bath toys that she feels are watching her every time she goes in it. No. Not in there. She can't go in her kids' rooms either, and Amelia's room, which is now loaded with Carolyn's things, is also off limits.

That leaves one safe haven: The walk-in closet at the end of the hall. Perfect.

She reaches for the gold door handle and pushes the door open, abruptly closing the door behind her. Still facing the now-closed closet door, she inhales a deep breath of air and collects her thoughts. She swallows deeply, breathing through her nose. The pizza stench is gone. The nausea also fades. Phew.

And then she hears someone _or something_ breathing…

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><p><strong>Nicole's AN: Well, there you have it! Meredith and Derek's first encounter - was it worth the wait? Irene and I may have very well been smoking some LSD while writing this chapter. LOL. Now, who or what do you think is in the closet with Meredith? I've been reading a lot of Stephen King lately, so my mind is coming up with creatively dark scenarios… **

**Also, I know some of you are looking forward to Maggie's role in this party. Don't worry, we haven't forgotten her. She will arrive at a very interesting time, and that's all I can say for now! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Irene's A/N: Hello again! I personally loved all your conjectures about who (or what!) is hiding in the closet with Meredith, and you guys have been such good sports trying to guess it! The wait is over! Thank you for always having kind words for us, we really appreciate them. I usually promise cookies to those who guessed right, so read on and feel free to grab one if your suspicions were confirmed!  
><strong>

**You know who deserves a cookie? Nicole. I laughed so much when I read what she wrote here. We all deserve some fun stuff after that episode, right?**

**Enjoy the chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

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><p>A loud, shrieking bellow elicits from Meredith Grey's lungs. Her screams match in unison with her sister-in-law's. For a split second, Meredith thinks that Zola's monster may in fact be real. Zola is always asking her to check under her bed and inside her closet to make sure no monsters are inhabiting her room. No monster. Just Amelia.<p>

"What are you doing here?" Meredith demands, catching her breath and steadying herself by holding onto the doorknob. Her heart is beating erratically inside her chest. _Calm down, _she tells herself. _Breathe. In and out. _She inhales through her nose, exhaling through her nose, a breathing technique recommended by doctors to help lower stress. Admittedly, it does work. Her heart rate soon returns to its normal rhythm.

"What are you doing in here?" Amelia echoes back.

She scoffs. "Hiding."

"Me, too," Amelia replies.

"I can see that," Meredith groans, rolling her eyes in satire. "By the way, thanks for having my back down there."

"Sorry about that." Amelia crinkles her nose.

"No, you're not." Meredith crosses her arms, trying to hold back any vile feelings she has towards Amelia. After all, she knows that if she was in Amelia's position, she would do the exact same thing. "By the way, Zola loved your gift."

"Did she?" Amelia's eyes light up. "Good, I managed to get it from my closet, put it with the rest of the gifts and then I kind of booked back up here. I couldn't go back in my room. It reeks of my mother. What was Derek thinking letting her camp her things in there? I'm going to kill him. He's a dead man when this party is over. D-E-A-D!"

Meredith smirks, loving Amelia in that moment. "Only if I can help."

Amelia laughs. "You think I would kill him without you?"

The sisters-in-law chortle together.

Their smiles soon fade, and silence erupts for a brief moment. Amelia breaks the ice. "I take it you haven't told Derek, then."

"I thought we agreed that you didn't see anything." Meredith is quick to fire.

"We can go on pretending like I didn't see anything...or you could use me as your confidant. I can be your ally. Come on, we're both on the verge of killing my brother with our bare hands. I'm not going to tell him. Promise."

Meredith stares blankly at her sister-in-law's shadow. It's still dark, so she can barely make out the small twinkle in Amelia's eye.

"Hey, maybe you'll have twins like Derek and Lizzie," Amelia chuckles.

Meredith drops her jaw. "Derek and Lizzie are twins?" Is Amelia joking? Surely Derek would have mentioned if he were a twin, right? Does Derek have a niece and nephew with the same names as he and his sister that she'd forgotten about? He has so many nieces and nephews; it is hard to keep track.

Amelia widens her eyes. "Derek didn't tell you that he's a twin?" Meredith's gaze is blank. "Wow, maybe we should start digging his grave right now." Amelia's face is entirely nonchalant.

_Oh, you have no freaking idea, _Meredith thinks. _Or maybe you do. _She senses that Amelia is the only person in this entire world who understands her frustration and anger towards Derek right now. She could use a confidant, since Cristina is on the other side of the world now.

"I'm probably going to miscarry, anyway," Meredith blurts out. Amelia looks mortified by Meredith's statement. Meredith swallows. "Derek and I...we had a miscarriage a few years back. They told me I have an unstable uterus. It's a miracle Bailey is even here." She breathes slowly, and before she can stop herself, she is disclosing more. "I...my hCG results indicate the levels are extremely low. Coupled with all the stress I'm under, this baby doesn't have a fighting chance. Plus, I'm supposed to be _taking it easy_, and that's going so well." Meredith rolls her eyes, chaffing at the irony of her words.

A heavy weight lifts off Meredith's chest. It feels good to have someone to talk to again. Though, she soon feels anxious when she notices the subdued apprehension inhibited on Amelia's face. Her eyes darken listless.

"You had a miscarriage?" Amelia queries, her voice full of dreariness. "When, if you don't mind me asking?" She quickly adds, "I don't want to over step."

"No, it's fine. You're not over stepping," Meredith assures, taking a deep breath, plagued by the memory of warm blood behind her thighs while she tirelessly worked to save Owen Hunt's life. "I-It was during the shooting. A little over four years ago."

_Four years ago._ Today is Zola's fourth birthday. The thought embeds in Meredith's brain. She and Derek could have another child just a little younger than Zola is now.

But then they wouldn't have Zola, because there's no way that they could have or would have been able to handle two babies at that time. She was just a resident. Zola was adopted during her fifth year of residency. They hadn't even been trying to get pregnant when she miscarried.

The thought makes Meredith's insides turn again.

She loves the children she's been given, and she wouldn't change them for the world.

Meredith lets out a deep sigh. Amelia's face is grim.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know," Amelia says, lowering her voice. "I-It's never easy losing a baby. I really shouldn't have asked. I can't even talk about…" She cuts herself off.

"It's fine," Meredith assures. She senses there's more than Amelia is letting off. "You know, the same goes for you. If you need someone to talk to, I'm a pretty good listener."

"I lost a baby, too." Amelia's voice rattles. The two women freeze. Meredith can see the tears forming in Amelia's obsidian blue eyes. Meredith doesn't know what to say. Derek has never mentioned that Amelia had been pregnant, though, apparently, there are a lot of things Derek doesn't mention, such as the fact he's a twin. "Derek doesn't know," Amelia adds grimly.

That's why Derek never mentioned it. He doesn't know himself.

"And frankly, I don't know how to tell him," Amelia goes on, full fledged tears stream down her cheeks. "I don't know how to tell any of them. My mother, my sisters, my brother. None of them know. The only people are know are my friends in Los Angeles. I made Addison swear not to tell anyone."

"I-I'm sorry," Meredith stammers, feeling guilty for bringing up the fact she will likely miscarry to Amelia. Amelia is distraught and agitated. Clearly, she's triggered a bad memory for her. "You don't have to worry about me saying anything."

Amelia wipes the tears off her face with her hand. "Thank you, Meredith."

Meredith decides it's best not to pry Amelia for more information. If Amelia wants to confide in her, she can. She's not going to force more information out of her.

Meredith sucks in a deep stale breath of air. "We should go back down there before they notice we're missing."

Amelia cracks a smile. "I don't want to miss the piñata."

"I've never seen one broken open in person," Meredith confesses. "I never really had birthday parties, per se." The birthday parties that come to memory now include her mother coming home at eleven o'clock at night with a cake and expensive gifts in an attempt to buy her love. She remembers staying up late, waiting for her mother with so much enthusiasm on her birthday. As she grew older, though, the cakes stopped coming.

"_You're too old for birthday cake, Meredith," _her mother's words from her tenth birthday sting in her memory. Looking back, she wonders if it had just been her mother's excuse to not have to contact the bakery and go out of her way to pick up a cake. If it was her excuse to not have to spend time eating cake with her daughter on her birthday.

The gifts continued, though, and her gifts' value seemed to increase with her age. Her mother showered her with horse riding lessons, the latest fashions, and the coolest eighties gadgets and toys. When she was sixteen, her mother purchased her first car: A red 1985 Mercedes-Benz.

Amelia's jaw collapses. "You have got to be kidding me! Wow, you've missed out. We had them pretty much at everything growing up. Birthday parties, Easter, Christmas. It was the one thing we always looked forward to: Breaking the piñata open."

Her sister-in-law makes the breaking of the piñata sound like a confection affair, one not to be missed. Unexpected giddiness approaches Meredith's body.

She opens the closet door, only to be greeted by an unexpected somebody on the other side.

Mama Shepherd greets Meredith and Amelia, a very authoritarian expression spans her face. Amelia flinches, grabbing Meredith's arm.

"M-Mom," Amelia stammers.

"Why, hello, Amelia darling," Carolyn grins at her daughter, then turns to Meredith. "And hello, Meredith." A knowing look is present on her face. Meredith wonders how long Derek and Amelia's mother has been standing on the other side of the door. How much has she heard, exactly? Meredith's stomach does flips at the thought of her overhearing that she was pregnant and would likely miscarry. Or if she'd heard her mention the first miscarriage. After all, Meredith doesn't even know if Derek told her about that or not. And then she thinks of Amelia's own revelations. Her sister-in-law's cheeks are rosy red. "What are you two ladies doing up here?"

"Uh…" Meredith stammers, looking at Amelia, who she sees is looking back at her. They both seem to be searching for answers in each other's faces.

"I'm...we're…" Amelia fumbles for words, seeming to have lost her usual quick-minded thinking process in front of her mother.

"We're looking for bubbles," Meredith quips, justifying their reasoning for being in the kids' closet. "I thought the kids might like to blow some bubbles, and I thought we had some up here, but I guess we don't."

Carolyn folds her arms, seemingly unconvinced, shaking her head. Meredith can feel her mother-in-law studying her face; Meredith's heart races erratically.

"You are absolutely glowing, my dear."

Meredith's heart stops momentarily. "Excuse me?" _She knows. She heard everything. _

"I had a hunch the minute I saw you, and you looked like you were about to hurl when Zola was opening her presents. I saw you book upstairs, and I wanted to make sure you were all right," Carolyn confesses.

"She heard everything we said," Amelia declares, looking absolutely mortified. "Crap, crap, crap!" And Amelia dashes past her mother, before Carolyn has a chance to stop her. Carolyn frowns, looking disappointed.

She turns toward Meredith. "She's going to keep running from me, isn't she?"

Meredith doesn't say anything. She doesn't know what to say. After all, she doesn't blame Amelia for booking it. After all, her mother has just overheard intimate details about her past, details that clearly she wasn't ready for her to know. Meredith, too, feels the urge to run away from Mama Shepherd, but her legs suddenly feel like they're glued to the floor and she can't unstick them.

"Am I really that scary?" Mama Shepherd laughs; she's now stepped into the closet as well, though the closet door is still wide open. "Meredith, you can relax. I'm not going to repeat any of what I've heard to my son. I know you'll tell him when you're ready."

The tension in her muscles does not release, though.

"I'd appreciate that," Meredith says stiffly.

"I have to admit, I am worried about Derek. He seemed awfully glum on the way here, and it seems like he's been putting on a fake smile for the kids. Is something else besides what I've heard going on between you two?" Carolyn asks.

"Uh…"

Before she can answer, she sees Derek storming toward them from the other end of the hallway.

"Meredith, there you are!" he cries. His widened eyes focus on his mother, though. "Mom, what are you and Meredith doing in the kids' closet?"

Meredith and Carolyn lock eyes for a moment.

"We were looking for bubbles," Carolyn smiles, winking at Meredith.

"Bubbles?" Derek crinkles his forehead, seeming perplexed. "Why?"

"Zola loves blowing bubbles," explains Meredith. "I thought we had some, but I guess Zola blew them all way. She was obsessed with them last week."

"Was she?" Derek raises an eyebrow.

"Of course, you would have known that if you had been here," Meredith replies in a grim muffled voice, rolling her eyes. She glances at Carolyn and quickly explains, "The house was a bubbly-palooza last week."

"I would have loved to have been here for that," Derek sighs. He lowers his voice, hushing in Meredith's ear, "But _you _forced me to go to DC."

"I did no such thing," Meredith quickly quips, also in a shushed tone.

"So you're going to deny it now? Of course you are. Did you forget that I chose you and the kids?" he mutters in her ear, obviously trying to continue their banter without his mother picking up on it. Clearly, she is, though, as her eyes are narrowing on them.

"Derek, dear, there may be some bubbles on the top shelf in here. My eyes aren't as sharp as they used to be. But are those bubbles? They look like bubbles to me," Carolyn asks in a very inquisitive tone.

It's true that Zola had gone through a bubble addiction the week prior, and it's also true that she probably went through all the bubble solution in the house. Meredith looks up towards where Carolyn's eyes are directed, but all she sees are lots and lots of totes filled with Zola and Bailey's old baby clothes and toys. She had told Jackson she would sort through some of them and pass them to him, for his and April's newborn. She hadn't had a chance to do that, though.

And maybe there's a reason for that. Her stomach flutters as she pictures the sonogram image and the visible embryo that lies inside her womb. She looks at Derek, reflecting on the fact that part of him is inside of her at this very moment. It's the third time she's carried part of him.

Derek enters the closet per Carolyn's request and begins studying the shelf that she points to. He reaches for the object she insists is bubble solution. "This is not bubble solution," he says, removing the gallon of Bleach from the shelf. "It's just…"

And before he can finish his sentence, Carolyn scurries out of the closet, closing the door with Meredith and Derek still inside. _Alone_.

They're officially in time-out.

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><p><strong>Nicole's AN: Looks like Carolyn is taking things into her own hands, ha! By the way, this 'closet time-out' that you'll learn more about and will actually see in the next chapter was planned long before 11x6. In fact, this chapter was written before 11x6. [Irene: See we are psychic like that! ;)]  
><strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**Nicole's A/N: Happy Sunday! Irene and I felt like this was definitely a **_**Sunday-**_**worthy chapter, plus we wanted to dish out all this drama before this year's fall finale. With that being said, a lot happens in this chapter, and there were times I wanted to slap both Meredith and Derek. You're going to see MerDer's entire "closet time-out" along with what's going on at the party from Carolyn's and Amelia's points of view, so yep, there's a lot going on. I think this may very well be the most important chapter we've posted yet, and possibly the most important one we've written thus far. It's a 'pivotal' chapter, as I like to say. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

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><p>"<strong>A family is a place where minds come in contact with one another. If these minds love one another, the home will be as beautiful as a garden. But if these minds get out of harmony with one another, it is like a storm that plays havoc with the garden." <strong>

_**Gautama Buddha**_

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><p>Meredith and Derek stand in the prevalent darkness as Meredith desperately reaches for the doorknob. She turns it, but it's stuck. "What the hell?" she spits.<p>

"Mom…" She hears Derek's groan from behind. "Let us out."

"Ten minutes, Derek, and we'll see whether you're ready to be let out, dear." Carolyn's muffled voice responds from the other side.

"Mom, you have got to be kidding me. I'm a grown man and am too old for a closet time out!" Derek shouts. "Plus, my … _our _… daughter's birthday is going on downstairs."

"You're never too old for a closet time out, dear. Now, I'll be back in ten minutes to check on you. You don't worry about the party. I'll make sure everything is running smoothly," Carolyn responds in a calm, rational tone.

* * *

><p>Downstairs, the party is still in full session. Amelia stands besides Callie Torres, supervising the children as they gather around Zola's Anatomy Jane doll with enthrallment. Zola is showing off all of Anatomy Jane's toy organs to her friends. Bailey mingles nearby, trying to include himself with the girls, though they ignore his presence.<p>

"So many colors!" one of the girls exclaims.

"What are they calleded?" another girl asks.

"My mommy says she made up names when she was a little girl, so we should make up their names!" Zola smiles widely.

Amelia knows it's only a matter of time before Meredith, Derek, and her mother come downstairs. The play room won't be her safe haven for much longer.

"You and Meredith were hiding in a closet? Seriously?" Callie laughs. Amelia had explained that she and Meredith had been busted by her mother and Derek in the kids' closet upstairs.

"I don't know if hiding is the word I'd use," Amelia contradicts. Okay, they were totally hiding.

"What's going on with Derek and Meredith, anyway? They've been tense all evening," Callie asks.

"No idea," Amelia lies, remembering her promise to Meredith. She plans on keeping Meredith's secret for her for as long as need be.

"Uh-huh. I guess they just need to get laid, probably. It's been like, what, a month?" Callie smirks. She then adds, "If anyone needs to get laid, though, it's _me_. I haven't had sex in over three months!" Amelia giggles at Callie's bluntness, though she would rather not think of her brother in that way. "Your mother seems nice, by the way. Why are you so terrified of her?"

"Nice," Amelia stops giggling at the mention of her mother and rolls her eyes. "Yeah, she's good putting on a nice face, alright."

"At least your mother isn't a nightmare like mine. My mother wouldn't go to my wedding because I was marrying a woman," Callie points out.

Just as Callie speaks, Carolyn Shepherd arrives in the doorway as if she's the Wicked Witch of the West. Everyone has different definitions of the word _nightmare_. While Amelia doesn't know how her mother would react if one of her children were in a homosexual relationship, since she and all of her siblings have always been in heterosexual relationships, she isn't convinced that her mother is any less of a nightmare than Callie's.

"Where are Meredith and Derek?" Callie asks.

A warm smile fills her mother's face. "Oh, they're a little locked in the closet right now."

Callie looks perplexed, but Amelia can't not burst into laughter. "The closet time-out? Seriously?"

Carolyn shrugs. "I happened to notice that your brother had so brilliantly installed the lock on the outside of the closet door upstairs. I thought I'd take advantage of it." Her mother winks.

Callie still looks confused, so Amelia explains, "Mom would always lock us in the closet when we would fight with our siblings. She called it the _magic_ closet time-out, because it always worked. Believe it or not, I was the good one, though. I think I've only had one closet time-out in my entire life. Derek and Mark, on the other hand..." Amelia smiles proudly, chuckling. Meanwhile, Callie's face freezes at the mention of Mark's name.

"It's because I let you get away with more than your siblings, darling. You were my baby," her mother chuckles, and Amelia's smile dims.

Callie snorts. "The way Mark and Derek used to throw punches at each other, I can imagine they were in time-out a lot. "

Amelia snickers again, reminiscing. "Once, Derek sent Mark to the ER after a closet time-out. Derek broke Mark's nose. Blood was _everywhere_. Mom had to stop locking them in the closet after that."

The three women share a light laugh, before Carolyn turns to Amelia, smiling coyly, and asks. "Amelia, dear, will you help me in the kitchen with the cake. That is, if Callie doesn't mind watching the kids." Carolyn eyes Callie Torres.

"Hey, I can watch the kids all day. No problem," Callie grins widely, specifically eying Amelia. Amelia groans, absolutely dreading the thought of being alone in the kitchen with her mother. She can handle her mother here, in the playroom, with Callie as her guard. But she can't forget what her mother overheard upstairs, and she's not prepared for the awkward questions that may follow.

"Then come along, Amelia." Her mother's expression is kind and warm, and Amelia is reminded of when she was a small girl, and her mother would let her help in the kitchen. Back then, Amelia loved spending time in the kitchen with her mother. Times have changed, and she's grown up.

Amelia reluctantly follows her mother into the kitchen. The cake is sitting on an oven cooling rack. A can of rainbow frosting sits next to the pan. Amelia imagines Zola picked it out. Zola has really gone all-out on the rainbow theme. It's enough to make anyone's eyes bleed, though Amelia won't dare say a negative word about the rainbow theme in front of her niece.

"Now, tell me, which little girl is Sofia?" Her mother asks once they're out of the playroom. Amelia cocks her head, confused. "Mark's daughter with Callie, right?"

"Oh, yeah," Amelia mouths. "Uh, she's the dark-haired little girl in the pink butterfly shirt."

"Thought so. She has Mark's nose," Carolyn smiles hesitantly, and it's then that Amelia realizes that her mother may be just as nervous about this encounter as she.

Amelia grabs the rainbow frosting and peels off the foil while she takes a knife out of the drawer, prepping to frost the cake. "I hope there aren't any sharp objects in the closet upstairs, because you know, Meredith and I were talking...errr, joking...about killing Derek earlier," Amelia says teasingly, apprehension scrapes the small smile she gives her mother.

Carolyn captivates her with a bubbly laugh. "The first thing I did when I got here was confiscate the sharp objects. I plan ahead, dear."

Apparently, her mother picked up on the Meredith and Derek tension before she and Meredith were even home. Amelia had forgotten about her mother's sixth sense of _knowing_. She has always had a way of just knowing.

Amelia looks around, to make sure Callie and the kids are still in the playroom. Once she sees they're in the clear, she whispers, "So, do you think she'll tell him?"

"Not a doubt in my mind," Carolyn nods, smiling.

"Is that why you locked them in the closet? So she'll tell him?" Amelia asks suspiciously. Her mother removes the knife from her hand, like she's a small child, too young to use a knife on her own. Carolyn begins frosting the cake on her own. Of course, it doesn't help her case that she'd just told her mother that she and Meredith were talking about murdering Derek.

"Of course that's why I locked them in the closet. Well, that, and I think there's more that they need to talk about, and sooner rather than later. For their sakes and the kids' sakes. They're not doing anyone favors when they're down here giving each other murderous looks," Carolyn explains, and Amelia knows she's right about that. She's noticed on numerous occasions that even when they're not speaking to each other, her brother's and his wife's fervent looks toward each other can be more powerful than any words. Then Carolyn winks, "Plus, if they're locked in there, then I figured I could have a moment alone with you."

Amelia exhales, knowing all along that getting her alone had been part of her mother's plan.

Before she can speak up or her mother can ask her an awkward question, her phone starts buzzing in her pocket. _Please be the hospital, _Amelia thinks. She would kill to be called into an emergency surgery right now, as horrible as that may sound.

It's Maggie Pierce's name that appears on her screen. Wait, wasn't Maggie Meredith's leverage to force Amelia to come to this party in the first place? _Where is Maggie? _Or had Meredith lied about inviting Maggie in the first place? Amelia doesn't think Meredith would lie about that, though.

She abruptly answers the phone. "Hey, Maggie, what's up?"

"Hey, uh… I don't know if Meredith told you, but she invited me to Zola's birthday party," Maggie's shaky voice enters Amelia's ear.

"Yeah, she told me. Actually, we were just wondering where you were," Amelia responds.

"Right, well, Meredith was going to give me directions, and she never did. So I was thinking maybe she changed her mind…"

"No!" Amelia breaks in. "She didn't change her mind. She just got, uh, busy and forgot. She still wants you here. I can give you directions." _That better be it, _Amelia thinks, infuriated by the thought of Meredith changing her mind, when she had been so adamant about Amelia going to this party and facing her mother because she had invited Maggie. It would be terribly hypocritical.

"Are you sure? Because I really don't want to intrude if I'm not wanted," Maggie insists.

"Absolutely positive. She assures me that she wants you here," Amelia insists. "She is telling me to give you directions." And she proceeds to give Maggie directions to her brother and sister-in-law's mansion in the woods.

When she ends the call, she sees Zola standing behind her.

"Where are Mommy and Daddy?" Zola asks in the sweetest little voice.

Carolyn and Amelia lock eyes and manage to respond at the same time, "Time-out."

"Why? Was they _bad_?" Zola asks innocently.

"Very, very bad," Carolyn nods. "Fighting is no good, Zola."

"Mommy and Daddy fight _a lot_. Sometimes I can't sleep 'cause they yell so loud!" Zola declares. Carolyn Shepherd's eyes widen, and Amelia sighs, because it's true. She can't count the number of times Meredith and Derek have woken her with their fighting before Derek went to DC. Amelia had wound up soothing Bailey and Zola on a few different occasions. Truth be told, Amelia was _relieved _when Derek moved to DC. It meant she could finally sleep in peace.

"Do they, now?" Carolyn asks, shaking her head. "That's no good, is it?"

"No! Since Mommy and Daddy was bad, does that mean they don't get no cake?" Zola asks innocently.

"Well, we'll see, dear. Maybe I should check on your mommy and daddy first, then if they're still being bad, we'll have cake without them, okay?" Carolyn smiles. Zola nods eagerly. Carolyn eyes her youngest daughter. "How would you like to light the candles, Amelia?" Trustingly, she hands Amelia packages of matches and candles.

Amelia is taken aback by her mother's trust.

* * *

><p>Meredith is still jiggling the door handle. "What the freaking hell?" she seethes. "What kind of door locks from the outside, anyway!"<p>

Light brightens the closet. Derek has apparently turned on the light. But she can't turn around. She can't look at him. "I designed the door this way in case we ever needed to use my mother's closet timeouts on our kids," Derek explains in a hushed, furious voice. "I hadn't planned on it backfiring."

"You have _got _to be kidding me!" Meredith scoffs, stomping as she flips the light back off.

She can feel Derek standing right behind her. His warm breath presses against her neck. She has many, many dirty memories of them in closets. _Too many, in fact. _Though none in this closet. They've had sex over practically every inch of the downstairs, aside from the playroom, but never once upstairs. The upstairs is the kids' sanctuary. It's off limits. The upstairs of their house is a "pure zone" as she and Derek have jokingly called it.

"Why did you do _that_?" he growls, turning the light back on, but she immediately retaliates, flicking the light back off. The lights flicker as they have a light switch fight.

"Leave it off!" she hollers.

"If I have to be in here for ten minutes, I would at least like the light on," Derek barks back. "Why do you want to stand in pitch darkness, anyway?" The light is on again, and this time she is slower to flick it off. Derek, much slower, turns it back on.

"I can't look at you," she reveals, her arms still folded and her body still facing away from him.

"You can't look at me?" His voice sounds surprised. "For God's sake, Meredith, _Zola _is more mature than you!"

She clenches her fists together tightly and twirls around, coming face to face with him at last. The light creates a fiery twinkle his dark-blue eyes. His sad, confused McDreamy gaze melts into her. But she's too pissed to care if he's sad or confused. He had, after all, just said their four-year-old daughter is more mature than she.

"You insulted Anatomy Jane, so no, Derek, I _cannot _look at you," she rolls her eyes vilely, looking past him, unable to stomach making eye contact with him in this moment.

"Wow, Zola really is more mature than you," he scoffs. "And I did not…"

"Oh, you're gonna play _that _card, are you? I heard you, Derek! You might have thought I couldn't, but I could. So don't even say that you didn't," Meredith snaps. She had noticed that her hearing had improved tremendously since becoming a mother. She seems to have a spidey sixth sense, because she can hear things she never used to hear before, like the water running upstairs when Zola leaves the sink on after brushing her teeth. Derek can never hear it, but she can. Her hearing is at its absolute best. Derek seems taken aback by the fact that had indeed heard him mumbling about Anatomy Jane's _ugliness_.

"Why does Zola have Anatomy Jane, anyway?" he demands.

"Why does it matter?" she retorts, throwing her arms up in the air above her head. "It's none of your business what I give my daughter for her birthday. At least I'm not buying seventy-five dollar dolls trying to buy her love, because I don't _have _to buy her love." She rolls her eyes. "And what happened to the easel that we talked about?"

"What easel?" Derek face reads of confusion. "She wanted Amazing Allyson, remember? That Sunday we Skyped, the Amazing Allyson commercial came on and she begged for the stupid doll. I remember it clear as day, and you said you thought it was cool, too. I told Zola I would see if I could find it."

"News flash: She wants _every _little girl toy that flashes on the screen, and of _course _I said that because I didn't want to upset her in that moment. I didn't think you'd actually get her that! We talked about getting her the easel, remember? Before you left."

Derek shakes his head with bewilderment.

"And to think _I'm _the one with the Alzheimer's gene," Meredith titters, rolling her eyes.

The color on Derek's face drains. He exhales slowly. "I'm sorry," he sighs, calm and collected, complete sincerity present in his voice. "I forgot about the easel. I've had a lot on my plate, Meredith. They really expect a lot from me in DC. They expect me to be a God. You can't expect me to keep everything straight."

She sighs, folding her arms and meeting eyes with him again. His eyes have a romantic glimmer added to them, and she finds herself fighting the urge to lunge forward and kiss him. It's a hard urge to fight when he's look at her like _that_, with his loving, dreamy compulsion. All she can think about is his tongue in her mouth.

_No, _she thinks. _Focus, Meredith. Focus. _

Besides, they're in the pure zone. No kissing in the pure zone. Plus, she's supposed to be mad, and she has no plans of caving at that any time soon.

_Focus. _

His firm gaze sends her heart into an erratic frenzy. A charming smile breaks his lips, and he inches a little closer to her. The divine scent of his cologne meets her nose, and her heart beats even faster. She lurches a step backward, moving away from him, but he keeps walking toward her. He manages to back her into a closet corner.

He's not helping her self control at all. His face is only a few inches away from her face, he's smiling boyishly down at her, his minty fresh breath fumes into her nostrils. Her heart can't handle this. She has too many memories of them in this position, with her pinned against the wall.

She can't do this.

She darts under his arm and pushes past him.

"You don't get to do that!" she cries.

"Do what?" Puzzlement bewilders his face. "Gosh, Meredith, you've been wanting to fight with me since yesterday. You've been so moody, and I'm having trouble understanding why, okay? I thought you would be happy about me coming home, and then you spring the tubes thing on me last night all of a sudden."

_Maybe because she knew he was coming home, _she thinks, realizing that her real fear hadn't lied in what would happen when Derek was away. It lies right here, with him standing so dreamily in front of her. She knows how hard it is to control herself when he's standing before her in the flesh. Here she is, already fighting the urge to fling her arms around him and press her lips against his.

_Yet, it's too late. _Butterflies flutter in her stomach. This is the _exact _thing she didn't want to happen.

She bites her lip.

"Did you go to the OB?" he finally asks. Her eyes narrow on the carpeted floor, avoiding eye contact once again. "You did, didn't you? Of course you did." She hears him scoff. "So? What did your doctor say? I know you didn't actually have the procedure done today, because they would have had to run tests. What did the tests say, Meredith?"

She starts breathing heavier, not knowing how to answer that question for him. _They said I'm pregnant and my hCG levels are low, so I'll probably miscarry. _Her insides twirl.

She can't tell him that. He'll be heartbroken at all costs. She might hate him, but she loves him too much to put that level of burden on him.

He's better off _not _knowing, for now, and she knows that. She would rather tell them after the fact. Or not at all. That way there's no chance he'll get his hopes up only to have them crushed. The last thing she needs is him offering to quit his job in DC only to have everything turn upside down. Then they'll be worse off than they were when he chose to stay in Seattle the first time he was offered the job.

"Look at me, Meredith," Derek demands; he extends his arm to touch her jawline, but she quickly jerks away.

She swallows. "How were the kids today?"

"What?"

Meredith steals a glance at his perplexed expression.

"The kids. How were they at Target? I mean, besides Bailey hiding under clothes and all. Were they otherwise good?" she coyly asks.

He gives her a blank stare. "Bailey, aside from almost giving me a heart attack, was fine. Zola, on the other hand …" His voice raises. "Maybe if you didn't feed her sugary cereal for dinner and got her to bed at a decent time, she wouldn't be so rowdy during the day."

"You have _got _to be kidding me!" Meredith snaps. He can't be serious, can he? "You're calling _me _a bad parent. She was hyper because she hadn't seen her _father_ in almost a month. _And. _And! It's her birthday, Derek. _Her birthday. _Of course she's going to be hyper. It has nothing to do with what I fed her or what time she went to sleep. You're awfully brainless for a brain surgeon, you know!" Then she sniffles, her eyes sting with the liquid that fills her teardrops.

Derek frowns. He reaches his arm out to touch her shoulder, but she pulls away and crosses her arms.

"Meredith, are you crying?" His voice abates from his prior hostilities. "Why are you crying?"

"Because… because…" she sobs. "Because I'm pregnant!" The words spill out of her mouth and there's no taking them back now. She starts crying harder as she utters the words for the first time. With Bailey, she hadn't told him by saying the words _I'm pregnant_. Last time had been so different. She'd told him with Zola's shirt. There weren't tears or agony when she had told Derek she was pregnant with Bailey, either.

This time feels so different.

The expression on Derek's face is different, too. Glee does not explode on his face like it had when she had told him about Bailey. Instead, he looks disorientated and bemused.

"W-What?" he stammers, appearing to be searching for the right words to say.

"That's what I found out at the OB today," she seethes.

"But, but how…"

"For God's sake, Derek, we already have a child together. I think you know where babies come from!" she shoots hotly. Seriously, how can he be so brainless?

"I know how babies are made." He rolls his eyes. "I mean, yesterday you told me that you weren't pregnant. You said you'd had a scare, and the tests were negative…"

"You're a surgeon who used to be married to an OB. You should know that false negatives are far more common than false positives!" she bellows. "Especially when your hCG levels are as low as mine. Don't get too excited, Derek. Chances are I'm going to miscarry, anyway. Unstable uterus, remember? Bailey was just a fluke!"

He looks like she's just stabbed a dagger through his right ventricle.

She breathes hastily. "And _why _did you never tell me that you and Lizzie are twins?"

"Are you pregnant with twins?" Derek looks flabbergasted, and he completely dodges her question.

"No!" she shouts, and she adds to clarify, "I saw the sonogram. There's only one sac."

"How far along are you?" Derek's voice shakes as he asks the question that sends her into a violent rage.

"Are you asking what I think you're asking?" she explodes, ready to slap him across the face. She locks her elbows, clamping her fists together firmly, to prevent herself from beheading him with her bare hands. "Because you shouldn't have to ask that question _unless_," she gulps on a little vomit. "Derek, I know we have a lot of issues, but _trust _was not one of them. I thought we were past that. At least I was. Apparently you aren't."

Her internal organs twirl, her stomach bubbles, and her head starts to spin. The nausea is back. The tomato-flavored stomach acid burns in her throat. Wearily, she swallows the vomit, able to hold it in for just a little longer.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been cheated on," he bitterly reminds her. "And let's not forget all the nights you _didn't _come home and said you spent with Alex. You can't blame me for wondering."

"Oh yes, it's _totally _Alex's baby!" she scowls, rolling her eyes. Her stomach is reaching its boiling point. She can't hold it in much longer. She scopes for something in the closet to purge into, or Derek is about to be covered with her pizza insides. For Derek's sake, she spots one of her cleaning ice cream buckets on the floor behind him. She quickly lunges for it, capturing it just in the nick of time as she begins regurgitating her stomach acid, mixed with chunks of pizza, into the bucket. "Of course it's your baby, you moron. It hates pizza!"

* * *

><p>As Carolyn pines her way up the stairs, boldly entrusting her youngest daughter with fire and matches, she can hear shouting from the other end of the hallway. She's not even halfway up the stairs.<p>

"_Of course it's your baby, you moron!" _she hears her daughter-in-law yelling, and a quickly a smile forms on her face. She was right. Meredith told him about the baby. Carolyn quickly turns around and bolts back downstairs, deciding that Meredith and Derek have plenty they need to talk about, so an extended timeout is necessary.

She re-enters the living room and hears a soft knock coming from the front door. Carolyn sighs, remembering listening to her daughter give someone directions on the phone, though she'd never asked Amelia who she had been speaking to, since Zola had come out looking for her mother and father around that time.

In the kitchen, she can see that Amelia has lit the candles. The cake is a blazing fire. Carolyn swallows, knowing Zola needs to blow her candles out soon or her candles will melt away and burn the cake.

Zola and her four friends come running out of the playroom. "Who's here?" Zola asks, then she looks over at he cake. "Oh, can I blow out my candles now, Nana?"

"One second, sweetheart. Let's see who's at the door," Carolyn insists, trudging toward the door, hoping it's not a murderous birthday crasher or something of that liking. Okay, maybe she's been watching too much Criminal Minds.

Carolyn pulls the door open, revealing the round face of a young African American woman. Her hair is thick and bushy, and she gives Carolyn a large, jittery smile. In her arms, she carries a rectangular box wrapped in rainbow paper. _Whoever she is, Zola is going to love her. _

"Hi, I don't think we've met. I'm Maggie. Maggie Pierce," the woman greets Carolyn, extending her arm to shake Carolyn's hand, which Carolyn inquisitively takes.

"I'm Carolyn Shepherd, Derek and Amelia's mother," Carolyn introduces herself, trying to get a good read on the mystery woman named Maggie in front of her. Whoever she is, she looks terribly frightened, and she doesn't seem to be a threat. At least not a murderous threat. "Why don't you come in? Zola was just about to blow out her candles."

"Hey, Maggie," Amelia greets Maggie with a warm smile when she enters. A sense of relief shields over Maggie Pierce's face when she sees Amelia. Carolyn senses the two are friends. Callie also greets Maggie warmly.

"Hi!" Zola waves at Maggie. Carolyn can sense that Zola recognizes Maggie Pierce as well. "You're the lady from the hospital! I like your hair. It's pretty."

"Why, thank you," Maggie blushes.

"Is that present for me?" Zola's face lights up.

"Is there another birthday girl here?" Maggie looks around mischievously at the other little girls. Carolyn finds Bailey crawling near the sofa, so she leans over and picks up him, to make sure he doesn't end up getting lost. Bailey yawns and leans his head against her shoulder. She can tell it's been a big day for the little guy. She's not sure if he will make it past piñata breaking time.

"Nope, just me!" Zola exclaims.

"Then looks like it's yours," Maggie smiles.

"Can I open the present now?" Zola dances eagerly, enthralled by the last present.

"Zola, why don't you blow out your candles before they melt? Then you can open the last present after cake, okay, sweetheart?" Amelia insists, motioning for the girls to come into the kitchen. Zola and the other little girls run towards Amelia, eager to have some cake. Maggie sets the gift down on the couch and also walks toward Amelia.

Meanwhile, Carolyn watches from afar, standing near the stairway holding her grandson. Her eyes focus on the dark-haired little girl wearing a pink butterfly shirt. Sofia. Mark's daughter. For a moment, she embraces the fact she is looking at a part of Mark in the flesh. In her arms, she holds part of Derek's flesh. A tear wells in her eye, as she looks into Bailey's tired blue eyes, then looks at Zola, so gallant and happy as she's about to blow out her candles. For a brief moment, she remembers when Derek and Mark weren't much older than Zola and Sofia are now.

Callie is standing next to her when they hear a loud banging noise coming from upstairs. She meets eyes with the robust woman, who is snickering.

"Sounds like they're banging each other to release their tension," Callie comments with a sly smirk on her face. Carolyn widens her eyes, mortified at the thought. Should she go check on them? Then again, if they're doing what Callie is implying, maybe it's best she waits. Still, Amelia's comments about Meredith wanting to kill her baby boy resonates with Carolyn. Meredith is tiny. There's no way she is physically capable of killing him without a weapon of some sorts. As for Derek, Carolyn knows he would never lay a hand on a woman. He was raised better than that.

So, Carolyn finds herself pondering if Callie is right, after all. Even though her baby boy is a grown man and a father, the thought still makes her insides turn. After all, that is _not _the purpose of a closet time-out.

* * *

><p>Derek watches in horror as the chunks of the single slice he has seen Meredith consume in the whole afternoon end up in the ice cream bucket. He'd be disgusted and feeling a little sick himself, if he wasn't absolutely flabbergasted by her revelation.<p>

They are having a baby. His wife is pregnant. He doesn't give a crap about the smell of regurgitated pizza filling the closet.

"Ugh," Meredith groans when she's finally able to straighten herself up. Her eyes are bloodshot and for the first time since he came home he can finally see how exhausted she really looks.

He looks around the closet, grateful when he spots a box of tissues on one of the shelves. He rips open the seal and silently hands one to Meredith. She takes it with shaky hands.

"Are you doing okay?" he asks, unable to help himself.

She rolls her eyes at him. "Does puking up chunks of a slice of pizza looks like doing okay to you?"

He looks at her, helpless. He knows he won't be able to say anything right for as long as she's in that mood. For the first time he wonders if maybe this huge fight they've been stuck into for days is only the consequence of her hormones, and he almost feels happy she's snappy. Being married to Addison the OB clearly told him that having symptoms is better than nothing, even if her hCG levels are low.

He sees her lean a little heavily against the wall, the bucket of vomit still in her hands, firmly held against her chest as she takes a couple of deep breaths.

"Look, Derek," she sighs, her eyes opening tiredly as the worst of the nausea seems to have quelled, "the values are really low. Connie is not hopeful. I don't...I wanted to wait until tomorrow before telling you, have a few more tests done, I don't want to get your hopes up."

His eyes widen, and he feels a bitter chuckle escape his lips. "Right,"

"I mean it, Derek, don't get too attached."

"Why? Because you don't want this baby? Because it's bad timing and it would be better if there's no baby tomorrow?" He raises his voice, he can't help it, because he's already attached. How could he not get attached? Part of _him_ is growing inside of _her._ They made a human being together, for crying out loud! Of course he's already attached.

Meredith looks livid. "No, because I never puked when I was pregnant with Bailey."

"What does that even mean? Not all pregnancies are the same…"

"I puked like clockwork when I had the miscarriage!" she exclaims, before he can even finish his own sentence.

He's sure his heart stops for a moment, and he goes numb. He swallows thickly, just like Meredith, as they challenge one another in a staring contest. Meredith looks like she's about to vomit once again. He knows stress is no good for the baby, especially such a fragile baby like the one they have made.

Why, why everything with them is always such an uphill battle?

He swallows thickly, feeling helpless and confined in the small, smelly closet. Surely the residual wafts of puke coming from the bucket aren't helping Meredith with the nausea at all.

He knocks heavily on the door, croaking out: "Mom, please, let us out!"

Meredith sighs, moving her eyes away from him, looking almost grateful that he's dropping the subject. He knocks one more time, but nothing happens.

Meredith gags again, but she manages not to puke.

"Alright, slow deep breaths," he coaches, unable to help himself as he reaches out to rub her back. It's the first time he has touched his wife in a month and it feels anything but what he could have expected.

Meredith jerks away from him, backing herself in the farthest corner. "Stop it! Stop trying to be nice or I'll barf all over you!"

"Meredith, -"

"I mean it, leave me alone, don't touch me!"

He feels burned. He steps back as much as he can, his shoulders hitting the shelf in the corner, the few inches of space between them looking like a million miles now.

Meredith keeps fighting the nausea as he knocks on the door again, this time harder.

* * *

><p>"Nana, come sing happy birthday to me!" Zola pleas, her bright smile instantly distracts Carolyn from her intrusive thoughts of her son and his wife in the upstairs closet. Carolyn smiles, setting down Bailey.<p>

"Hold on, sweetie. We have to take a video so we can re-watch it later over and over," Carolyn insists. Also, she wants to make sure Derek and Meredith get to watch this moment. She feels bad enough that she's locked them in a closet so they're missing it, but at the same time, she doesn't feel too guilty. If they had sorted their problems out on their own, like mature adults, she wouldn't have had to intervene.

She notices Maggie's eyes wandering around the room. Carolyn presumes she's looking for Derek and Meredith, but she's too shy to ask where they are.

Carolyn positions her iPhone at the perfect angle and turns on the video.

"Okay, 1...2...3..._Happy birthday to you," _Carolyn sings softly, and soon Amelia, Maggie, Callie and the little girls join in the chorus. "_Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Zola. Happy birthday to you!" _

Once the birthday song ends, little Sofia continues the song, "_How old are you? How old are you? How old are you?" _Carolyn smiles warmly as she watches Sofia sing, thinking of how much in that moment she is reminded of Mark. Mark was always the one to sing the _How old are you _song at the end of _Happy Birthday. _

"Four! I'm four!" Zola chimes.

"Now, you have to make a wish, Zola," Amelia insists.

Carolyn studies her own daughter, relishing the realization of how much she has grown up since she'd last seen her in person. The last time being at her medical school graduation, when she'd uttered some not-so-kind words to her, which she deeply regrets now. Amelia has grown into a beautiful grown woman, just like her sisters. Though, she certainly looks more like Derek than any of the other girls do, even his own twin. She always has. She is his female doppelganger.

Zola closes her eyes and blows out her candles in three big breaths.

"What did'ja wish for?" Sofia asks eagerly, and again, Carolyn is reminded of Mark and Derek as young kids. Mark always asked Derek what he wished for.

"Can't tell ya, or it won't come true," Zola grins, and Carolyn's heart breaks, thinking of young Mark and Derek. It's truly remarkable that their daughters are good friends, too. She had always imagined that her boys' kids would be the best of friends, just like their daddies, though she'd always pictured Mark would be here to see his children grow up too. She never imagined that _she _would be here, and Mark wouldn't.

She looks at Sofia, and she sees her eleventh granddaughter.

Carolyn starts cutting the cake for the very eager little girls.

"There's some pizza in the playroom, if you'd like some. It's probably cold by now, though," Amelia tells Maggie.

"Cold pizza is just fine," Maggie nods. Amelia points toward the playroom, and Maggie disappears into it.

"So, Amelia, dear. Who is this Maggie girl?" Carolyn whispers in her daughter's ear as she hands Zola a piece of a cake.

"Um, well...she's sort of Meredith's sister. It's a long story," Amelia explains.

Didn't Meredith's sister die in the plane crash? Carolyn believes Amelia, though, as crazy as it sounds. Derek never mentioned Meredith having _another _sister. He'd just implied that she'd had a rough upbringing, and Carolyn never pried for more information, because it was clear that family is a sore topic for Meredith.

The kids sit around the table and start to dig into their cake, while Maggie returns and takes a seat on the couch.

"So, uh, this might sound weird, but where are Meredith and Derek?" Maggie finally asks.

"Crap," Carolyn mouths, realizing at least twenty minutes have passed since she'd last checked on them.

Carolyn storms up the stairs. This time she can hear Derek's jolly laughter.

_Closet time-outs really are magic._

* * *

><p>"Can you stop making all that racket? You're giving me a headache."<p>

He pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to snap again. "Look, Meredith, if you want me to leave you alone, we need to get out of here. We're stuck in here until Mom lets me out. I can't leave you alone."

Meredith sighs, her turn to lose some of the edge.

"By the way, it's been way longer than her usual ten minute time-out," he says, checking his wristwatch out of habit.

"How does this time-out thing work, anyways? We could take pointers…"

Derek feels a smile at the memories resurfacing. "Basically, whenever one of us did something wrong or there was a fight we couldn't reconcile, she used to lock us in the broom closets next to the kitchen for ten minutes, so that we could think about what we did wrong, or find a way to apologize to one another."

"I bet you and Amy were locked in there a lot." Meredith lets out a tentative smile, mirroring his expression.

"More like Lizzie and I. Or Mark and I. Though Mom stopped locking us in the closet after we started punching one another. She locked us in the bathroom instead. Then Mark banged his head against the bathroom sink and got a concussion, so she started locking us outside...even in the cold," He smirks at the memory, watching as Meredith relaxes a little as well. Surely, she still looks pretty nauseous, but maybe if he keeps her talking the feeling might pass.

"We should totally start using this with the kids," Meredith grins, "You should have told me sooner."

Derek chuckles. "I have to be honest, they didn't seem to last for so long when I was a child."

"Maybe timeouts get longer as you get older?" Meredith bites her lip, trying not to giggle, and her eyes light up.

"Are you calling me old?" He fakes a surprised expression that finally sets her giggle free. He relishes it, chuckling with her. "I should remind you that we're sharing this closet, dear."

Meredith laughs even harder, clutching the puke bucket closer. "I'm gonna throw up again if you keep making me laugh."

"Sorry," he says, unable to stop laughing. It feels good to be laughing with Meredith again, after all that bitterness and all the time they have spent apart. He missed his wife's smile and her laughter in the past few weeks, distance or not. It's good that by coming back, the giggle came back too.

Maybe closet time-outs really work.

"Would Zola be scarred for life if I open this door right now?" they hear Carolyn's voice ask from outside the closet, amusement in her tone.

* * *

><p><strong>Irene's AN: First of all, we both wanted to apologize for the lack of closet sex that was requested so many times by you guys. Honestly, everyone, even Carolyn and Callie, was pretty sure there would be closet sex and then...it didn't happen. Nicole almost made Meredith kiss Derek, you noticed that, but she would have had to slap him afterwards, and we think our McDreamy was shocked enough for a lifetime even without the slap. **

**They both were slightly unreasonable at times and angry, but it was about time they let out all that pent up energy, uh? I hope you enjoyed the back and forth between the party and the closet, and that you were rewarded for all your patience.**

**The scene is clearly not finished, but at least this time the cliffhanger is not a mean one, right? ;)**

**Thank you for reading this story, Zola should definitely share some of her cake with you guys! Until next time! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Irene's A/N: Okay guys, this is our first chapter for this winter hiatus, and I hope you're going to appreciate the effort! We decided to keep it hidden a little longer, but you'll understand why as soon as you read it. We thought it would be the perfect post-Risk chapter, and we both hope you'll agree. Thank you for sticking around!  
><strong>

******We received one not very nice review for chapter 8, and it saddened us a little. It's deleted now, don't bother checking for it. We appreciate you people telling us why you are not enjoying this story and criticize it with us, we had a few exchanges like that, and we're sorry we can't please everybody, but we also understand that this story might not everybody's cup of tea, and so we can sadly let you move on. What we don't appreciate, is people attacking us with no reason whatsoever, there we draw the line. Oh, and if you want to tell us that this sucks, please, do it with your own account, so we can try to help you understand why we did that or why we didn't do something you thought could be pivotal for the story. If you have questions or complaints or even requests, we're here, we're on Twitter, you can ask us anything. Except plot development, we don't do spoilers ;)******

**Okay, now that I did my own ramble, please, read on. Don't let this stop you from enjoying this! **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

* * *

><p>"Busted," Derek whispers, chuckling one last time as he shares an amused look with Meredith. "Zola is there with you?" he asks his mother then; it's too quiet for his likings outside.<p>

"Of course not!" The voice becomes clearer as the door clicks open and Carolyn lets the light of the hall filter in.

Fresh air.

Derek gulps in a deep breath, relishing the lack of vomit aftertaste in it. Yeah, the smell of cheese pizza is surely better.

"Is Zo doing okay downstairs?" Derek asks, stepping slightly out of the closet. Before he can move fully outside though, he feels a hand push against his shoulder as the bucket of pizza chunks ends up in his hands.

He turns swiftly to look at Meredith, who practically bolts out of the closet, one hand clutching her stomach, the other planted in front of her mouth as she runs.

He realizes some of the vomit in the bucket has ended up on his shirt only when he feels its warmth spread on his chest, too stunned by Meredith's escape to even process it.

* * *

><p>Derek blinks, snapping out of it, then sharing a look with his mother.<p>

"Is she…?"

Derek wants to blurt it to the world that yes, she has morning sickness, but Meredith's warning not to get attached reverberates in his head. "Pizza didn't agree with her. I'll just…"

"Go on, Derek." His mother smiles, and he feels like she knows. She does have a sixth sense for this stuff, after all, but he doesn't have time to speculate on that even further.

He leaves the puke bucket with his mother, then bundles down the stairs. He follows her, though she's quicker than him, maybe more used to running around now that she had to take care of their children alone. When he's on top of the stairs he notices Maggie Pierce munching on a slice of cold pizza on his couch, and he slows down a minute, not sure if he's hallucinating now, after being confined in a very limited space with so little oxygen left. She's blinking, looking straight at him with a small smile, so it's not a cardboard figure of her either...

Nope, definitely Maggie. What is she doing here, anyway?

He hears the door of the bathroom click open, and he decides that the reason why Maggie Pierce is in his house can definitely wait. He catches up with Meredith, and he almost runs straight into the master bathroom's door when she slams it into his face.

Luckily she's too in a hurry to lock him out.

When he enters, the sight inside breaks his heart: Meredith is hunched over the toilet, retching what little she still had in her stomach, mostly just dry heaving at this point. Her whole body jerks, her hands gripping the toilet seat as she's barely able to stay upright, his heart squeezing in his chest.

He has never been more grateful that she was nausea-free during Bailey's pregnancy than he is now.

He grimaces as he kneels next to his wife, feeling partially responsible for this, well, maybe more than half responsible at this point. He gathers her hair into his fist, keeping the makeshift ponytail away from her face, as she gags one more time. He lays his free hand on her spine, starting an up and down motion over her vertebrae, feeling the tension in each one of her muscles, ignoring her earlier request not to touch her.

"Go 'way," she sniffles, trying to breathe from her nose, no matter the awful bile smell already permeating the room once again.

"I'm not going anywhere," he replies, his voice soft and velvety, trying to keep her even calmer.

"Please, leave," she says, even more weakly, now both her forearms leaning against the cold toilet seat.

Derek only shakes his head as he keeps rubbing her back, her body molding against his in exhaustion, her harsh breathing slowing down more and more each time her lungs refill and empty themselves.

Another round of bile vomiting shakes her fragile form, and Derek feels tears prickle at the corner of his eyes. Has she been so nauseous before? Has it happened already that she could just hug the toilet bowl for hours without doing much more? It might not be hours this time, but it surely feels like it.

She groans and moans when it seems like her stomach had emptied itself of its whole contents, and he feels her muscle relax just for a moment, the second necessary to feel her surrender to his presence there. She sighs deeply, keeping her eyes shut now, as she lolls her head back a little, leaning against the cold tiles of the bathroom, though she leaves enough room for him to keep his hand on her back, where it seems to belong.

"It's not even _remotely_ morning," he hears her mutter under her breath, her eyes glaring low at the level of her navel as she crosses her legs Indian style. She presses her forehead into her hands, taking deep, shaky breaths, her eyes closed in exhaustion.

At this point, he decides to be bold.

He moves his hand from her back to her shoulder, curling it around her clavicle, before he pulls her gently to rest against his chest. She meekly fights him, groaning and shifting, but her other shoulder ends up fitting as perfectly as usual on his chest, just like her head under his chin.

He breathes her in, a faded lavender wafting up into his nose, making the reek of vomit disappear. She sniffles, going limp into the hold, and he squeezes her a little bit tighter.

"Derek," she croaks, her tone scratchy and filled with tears.

"Shh," he hums into her ear, and she suddenly grips his shirt tightly, holding onto him in a way that is so needy and so heartbreaking Derek feels tears form in his eyes. He needs to be strong now, for her, he needs to be a rock.

He shifts her body so that he's holding her like he would hold Zola, caressing every inch of her side and her hair and her tear-stricken cheeks. He has no idea what brought them on besides hormones, but he's pretty sure she can't take anything anymore.

"I'm sorry," he whispers in her ear, squeezing her just a little tighter. Meredith shakes her head lightly, still stubborn, still fighting, but the fight is draining out of her. "I'm sorry I said things I didn't mean."

"How can you even think…" she swallows, looking up, meeting his eyes, her voice still broken, her eyes still glassy.

"I wasn't thinking. I never think when I say these things. I just get angry and it becomes a ball of rage that pushes and pushes until it comes out and destroys everything good I have." He shakes his head, his turn to set free a few tears, unable to help himself.

He's not ashamed to be crying in front of her, though. Meredith knows him, maybe better than he knows himself, and she loves so fully it scares him, especially since she has been hurt so badly in the past he can barely fathom how she could have love -all that much love- for him.

"I don't deserve you," he admits, his voice breaking, the last syllable barely understandable.

"No, I don't," Meredith nods, caressing his cheek, moving her hand through his hair, her eyes spilling tears freely. "But you complete me. I don't need anyone else. I don't _want_ anyone else, Derek. You are enough."

Derek gulps, pulling her close to him, wrapping her tired, battered body into his, breathing her in. He doesn't care about the puking, or the fight, or the fact that he missed half of Zola's birthday party. He's glad that he won't miss the next dozen birthdays because Meredith gave him divorce papers. If missing Zola's fourth birthday party saved his marriage, he's happier to do it all over again. This is a kind of guilt he can live with, even if it makes him sound selfish.

She relaxes against him, as they keep breathing in unison, their eyes closed, their thoughts hazy with tiredness and longing, the rest of the world locked out of the bathroom for the time being. There's nothing more he wants to do right in this moment than hold his wife and cry with her, because he has missed her warmth and her laugh and her tears; he has missed her hair and the way she treats the kids, her bossiness and her softness, her strength and her compassion. He missed everything about her, every single wisp of her.

Before he's totally comfortable letting go of her, she wipes her face and slowly untangles from him. She blinks slowly, she moves slowly, she stands up even more slowly. He sees her stumble as she takes a first, tentative step. She grips the sink for support.

"Here," he says right away, standing up in a flash to offer her his hand.

"No," she whispers, shaking her head with what little energy she has left, fighting him once again with every fiber of her being. He loves her more than life itself, but his wife is as stubborn as a mule. He shakes his head, taking a step back, but he doesn't leave her.

He's quick to steady her from her hip when she almost topples over the fuzzy carpet in front of the sink.

She gulps, taking two deep breaths, and he's almost ready to see her bolt back to the toilet. She keeps standing instead, breathing and holding onto the porcelain. Her knuckles are white.

"You should go lie down for a moment." His words are more of an order than an encouragement, and she shakes her head with determination, still managing to glare at him.

He looks at her, really looks at her, and he has never seen something as beautiful as her, right in this second, angry at the world and still a little pissed at him, all her strength and her fragility condensed in that single look. God, he has missed her.

She opens the faucet, the ice cold water taking away some of the exhaustion, some of the grime look in her eyes, but not the stubbornness. She lets the water drip down from her chin, staring at her reflection on the wide mirror, her hands gripping the sink once again.

He hands her toothbrush, and her hand is almost shaking as she attempts to annihilate the taste of bile in her mouth. She blinks and brushes, blinks and brushes, and he's mesmerized by her every action. His eyes move down to the edge of the sink, on the same line as her stomach and navel and the place where their new miracle is secretly thriving.

Brushing her teeth seems to have drained her of all the energy left. She's utterly spent.

"Please, go lie down." The words escape his lips before he can keep himself in check, and this time the glare is less intense, the shake of her head more feeble.

"We need to go back," she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she accepts the towel Derek hands her. "I have to chaperone Zola's party, we need…"

"You need to go lie down, Mere. I'll go back, see where we are at. Zola is surely having a blast, and my mother has it all under control."

"I need to go back," she shakes her head, fidgeting with the towel, "She's my baby girl, I need to go back…"

"Meredith, we're already missing it, and I still haven't heard any screaming, so I'm assuming Mom, Amelia and Callie have it under control."

Of course as soon as the words escape his lips they hear a piercing cry from the playroom, and Meredith almost falls to the ground to go and see what's going on.

He gently stops her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders, staring her down. "You're in no condition to be at a party, Meredith."

"Derek, just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm an invalid!" she retorts.

He almost feels amused at the fight she's putting up. "How much did you sleep last night?"

Meredith gulps, looking guilty all of a sudden. "I...I kind of didn't," she admits honestly, her face becoming a little less pale.

"Look, I can see it in your face that you're still nauseous and you feel dizzy at the mere idea of going back. Go lie down."

Meredith shakes her head, stubbornly taking yet another step, and stumbling one more time.

"Fine," he scoffs, and before she can protest, he bends down a little and picks her up in his arms. He's alarmed by how lighter she feels in his arms after so long.

"Derek, let me go," she cries in a feeble voice, as he curls her up in his arms and opens the bathroom door with his back. She squirms and wriggles for a little while, trying an impossible escape, until she surrenders.

She rests her head on his shoulder, her nose in the crook of his neck, her regular, tired breathing warming him up from the inside out. His heart feels so full now that he's finally holding his wife -_his pregnant wife!_- after what feels like an eternity.

He takes Meredith to their bedroom and lays her down on the comforter, shifting a few pillows around to make room for her. Only then he notices that she's still wearing jeans and a sweater, and he picks up sweats for her.

When he turns around, he notices that she hasn't moved an inch as soon as she had curled up in a ball, her back facing his side of the bed, her eyes closed gently, her breaths even.

She looks ethereal.

He picks up their bathroom's trashcan and takes out the half-filled bag, his heart fluttering when he notices the three negative pregnancy tests, then he leaves the bag in the bathroom and brings the trashcan at Meredith's reach, right beside the bed.

"Do you feel like changing out of these clothes?" he asks, spreading the sweatpants and her Dartmouth t-shirt close to her hands.

"Der," she mumbles, too tired to elaborate more. Her wide gray eyes meet his with a plea when he crouches beside her.

"Are you too tired to change?" he asks, and he sees it in her eyes even though she doesn't say it out loud. He brushes away a wisp of hair from her face, and she sighs, closing her eyes, when his fingers caress her cheek. "You'll be uncomfortable if you sleep in these clothes until morning. Will you let me?" he asks tentatively, and she gives in.

He unbuttons her jeans slowly, suddenly brought back to the last time he has done this. They made a baby that night, they made this baby she's carrying. He can't help the smile on his face as Meredith's mile-long legs are revealed. She takes a shaky breath when he caresses her skin, shivering for a moment at the change in temperatures before he can pull the sweatpants up to her hips.

He rests his fingers against her hip, resisting the urge to touch her stomach. It's Meredith's hand that stops him for good, when she lays it over his, squeezing it gently. She has a knowing smile on her lips.

"No funny business," she smirks, her face suddenly looking a hundred times healthier.

He chuckles, pulling up her sweater, careful not to be too carried away. She smiles gently when his hands caress her face and her hair softly as her torso is revealed. He stares for a second at her stomach, but even bare like this, he can't see any sign of their little baby there.

"Cold," she mumbles, already half of her brain shut off.

Derek chuckles again, helping her with the shirt.

"Bra," she mumbles again, before he can fit her arms in the sleeves. "No bra."

Derek grins again, swiftly unclasping her bra with a certain practice. There's a small smile on her lips then, and she lets out a groggy moan.

"No funny business," he echoes, and she finally giggles. "Good to go," he grins then, as he smooths down the shirt over her body, reveling in her soft sigh, though he misses the sight of her fuller breasts he barely sneaked a glance to.

"Go check on -"

"I'm good right here," he smiles, kissing her forehead, before he walks around the bed and lays behind her. He wraps his arms around her body and she sinks into his hold, for the first time not fighting him as he initiates contact. Instead, she grabs his hand and folds her fingers with his, holding onto him for dear life.

"You're my knight in shining whatever…"

Derek chuckles against her, feeling her smile seep into her body as well. They breathe together for a while, calm, quiet, content, the house suddenly quiet as well, but Derek is feeling too sated to worry much more. He has missed Meredith so much, even before leaving for DC, and now he's finally back home in her arms.

She sighs, mumbles something else he can't understand, then she tenses up. Maybe she falls asleep, maybe she doesn't, but her body is still fighting complete sleep, almost as if she's still too wired to let go.

"Sleep, it's okay, it will be okay..."

He knows she's worried, hell, he completely freaked out when she told him that she's pregnant and she will most likely miscarry, but he can't help but feel elated all the same. Against all odds, they made a baby again, and maybe it's a sign, just like his mother getting pregnant with Kathleen so that Dad could stop going on tours around the world. Maybe this baby is a sign that not everything is lost between them, no matter the hurt and the resentment harbored between them.

He wishes he could just go to sleep and have everything figured out, everything working right again just like it did before President Obama called, but he can't, and so he settles for holding Meredith and holding their baby in the midst of this storm, bracing himself to weather it out.

He sighs loudly against her neck when she almost unconsciously moves their joined hands to rest on her stomach, squeezing his tightly, as her breath itches in her throat. He feels a tear fall from her eyes down to his other arm, and he holds her even more firmly as she finally releases all the tension that's keeping her loaded as a spring.

She cries and sobs and cries some more, as he sheds his own tears. Tears of relief, tears of sadness, tears of fear and anger and exhaustion, he doesn't know; he's sure her tears are falling down for the very same reasons as his.

They remain there for what feels like forever, sharing this moment that feels more intimate than making love after being apart for so long and so many ugly words between them. He holds her, and she lets him; she holds him, and he's filled with peace.

He rubs her stomach in slow circles, marveling once more at the little life they have made together, memories of doing the same when Bailey was nothing more than a bunch of cells inside her resurfacing, kindling his hope. He's tired, he's so tired of fighting and being sad and exhausted and far from his family, but he has no idea how to breach the subject to Meredith, how to tell her that he's not coming home just for the baby, he's coming home because life in DC is miserable without his family, and he doesn't want the president if he can't have his wife.

All he can do now is hold her, and it is more than enough.

He rubs and rubs and rubs, until her body is limp and her slow snores fill the room, exhaustion taking over her willingness to stay awake.

He tries to shift, even if he doesn't want to, because he promised her he would check on the party. He would gladly stay here and hold her for the rest of the night, but he can't. He has already broken enough promises to her, this is not the time to break another one.

He moves his arm, untangling himself from her, and she barely grunts, molding in the pillow. He's more reluctant than before in moving his hand away from hers and her stomach, but he has to. He needs to check on the kids.

When he manages to stand up again, he feels like he has aged a million years. He needs to sleep. He needs to be with his wife. He can't, though; not right now.

He goes to the bathroom, his turn to wash his face, to wash the tears away. He fixes his now wrinkled clothes and changes out of his stained shirt, settles Meredith's stuff on the back of their armchair, and then he crouches in front of her. He watches her sleep for a beat, caressing her still wet cheek, drying her tears as she sighs in contentment.

He's so damn lucky to have her as his wife and the mother of his children, as infuriating as she can be most of the time.

He pries himself away from her before it's physically impossible for him to move, and then he goes back to the playroom, a strange quiet having settled in the whole ground floor of their house.

He notices his mother picking up the used ugly plates strewn all around, throwing them away in a big garbage bag, all the guests gone.

"Ma?" he asks, his voice heavy with sleep, throaty with tears.

"Oh, there you are, Derek. How's Meredith?"

"Asleep. I hope she stays asleep until morning. I don't think she has slept much last night…" he admits. He knows she has not slept at all, but his mother doesn't need to worry even more about it.

"Good, she deserves the break." Carolyn nods, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Um, Ma, where are the guests?" he asks, screening the room with the debris of the piñata and the party itself, half of the chocolate cake still intact on its stand. He decides to grab a slice, unhealthy or not. He won't be able to clean up the house without the sugar intake.

"Well, one of the little girls got hit by the baseball bat while they were breaking the piñata and she wouldn't stop crying. Amelia decided to bring her back to the hospital for a precaution head CT."

"What?" he almost chokes on his forkful of cake, his eyes widening, practically ready to go out and see if the little girl was okay himself.

"Hold your horses, Derek. The girl is fine, Amelia just wanted to escape from me for a little longer."

"Are you sure?" Derek keeps frowning, waiting for more shocking revelation before eating more cake.

Carolyn smiles. "Relax. Callie went with her since the girl was her responsibility, but she's fine. They're all fine."

Derek nods, willing to trust his mother, too tired not to.

"Zola is playing with all her toys in the living room, Bailey is with her. They are okay, and they had a blast. And I took a lot of pictures and a video, so that you and Meredith wouldn't miss anything."

Derek groans, but he's happy to know that even if his mother has locked him in a closet, she had the common sense to record what he was missing.

"Was she upset we weren't there?"

"Honestly, she didn't even notice. You little ungrateful babies never do." She laughs loudly, only to keep herself in check when she remembers that Meredith is asleep.

"Do you need a hand when I'm done with the cake?"

"No, Derek, I need you to go back to the living room, sit down and play with your daughter. Or you can go back to bed."

Derek is tempted to choose option two, before Zola bundles out of the living room already in her pajamas, Anatomy Jane squeezed tightly against her chest.

"Daddy, she gots all the names for the organs now, you wanna play?" she asks, her eyes tired and wide, the rush of the sugar clearly wearing off.

She grabs his hand and leads him to the couch, standing in front of him as she starts making up a very elaborate pretend story, including a good portion of her dolls and her stuffed animals, Derek just a mere participant and doll-holder most of the time.

Zola is perfect. Their perfect little girl.

For a second he imagines what would his and Meredith's little girl look like. He hopes she'll look like Meredith too, if they are having a girl. _If she survives_.

His eyes land on the carpet then, trying to keep his sadness at bay as he plays, and only then he notices a socked foot poking out of it. Well, two socked feet with little green monsters on it.

He tickles the little foot, knowing it would elicit a reaction from his son, but he barely shifts his leg and grunts something.

When Derek slides him out from under the couch, Bailey awakes, blinking blearily under the artificial light, making Derek laugh.

Bailey goes on playing like he hadn't just slept a good fifteen minutes under the couch, his turn to engage Derek in some make-believe play. Derek can't stop smirking.

Zola catches his attention again as Bailey returns to play with his blocks, stacking them on the couch cushion next to Derek, attempting to build the castle for the princess Zola is trying to marry off to a stuffed bear.

The next time Derek looks at Bailey, the little boy is standing in front of the half-built tower, his chubby arms folded under his cheek, as he snores away, asleep on his feet like a horse.

"You had a long day today, uh, Bails?" he mutters between himself, grabbing the boy from under his armpits and cuddling him to his chest for a moment.

"Dada," he mumbles, barely coherent, before sleep claims him once again.

Bailey ends up resting his head in the crook of his neck, his warm breath making Derek feeling even more exhausted, and even happier. Imagining life with a newborn around again is suddenly exhilarating. Sure thing, a newborn would stay a lot more put than Bailey or Zola would ever be from now on. He misses these quiet moments with his babies.

"Daddy, you can't play no more." Zola frowns at him and glares at Bailey in his arms.

"No, but we can totally snuggle here for a little bit before bedtime. You can tell me all about the party."

"Daddy, you were there." She shrugs, but she does sit next to him. She jackknifes her knee under her leg, turning towards him, smiling.

"Of course I was," he sighs, his turn to smile.

"Where's Mama? Can we snuggle with Mama?" Zola prods, first leaning her head on his thigh and looking up at him, only to shift around and settle her whole body on his lap, making him grunt at the sudden weight.

"Mama ate a little too much pizza and now her stomach hurts really bad." She doesn't need to worry, it's her birthday and she doesn't need to worry about her mother for a second. She has a lifetime to worry about her mother, not when she's four years old.

Zola's eyes widen, sadness and surprise filling her features. "Oh, no!"

"See, it happens if you eat too much."

"We should go snuggle, make Mama feel better!"

"She's already asleep, Lovebug. Maybe tomorrow morning we can all snuggle in the big bed with her, what do you think?" He smiles brightly, his tired brain clearly picturing a third child in between him and Meredith sometime soon. Honestly, low hCG levels or not, he wants that baby, and he'll do everything in his power to help her or him thrive and live. For once, he hopes he can find the faith his mother so blindly believes in and believe a little too. They need all the help they can get.

Zola seems to be content with the answer, because she shifts position once again, this time hiding her face into the crook of his neck on the other side from Bailey, and he cracks a smile at the pile of children on him. Still, there's room for more.

He curls up an arm around Zola's back, pulling her close, their bodies flush. He'll take them up to bed soon, he just wants to re-learn how well they fit in his arms after a month of distance, he wants to savor their quicker breaths against his skin, or their sticky flavors of chocolate cake, candy and pizza that cover their usual scents. Of course they'll need a bath too, but they can do that in the morning. Meredith has a late shift, and he's home, the bath can wait.

Zola's breaths even out, and pretty soon she's asleep too, Anatomy Jane clutched in the crook of her arm, her hand curled up into his t-shirt, her legs into his lap, almost tangled with Bailey's. Bailey has been still from the moment he has given up on being awake.

He can hear his mother move things in the kitchen, probably washing the dishes, the aftertaste of her chocolate cake still lingering in his mouth. He's still hungry, but his eyes droop out of his control.

Nobody would fault him for taking a quick nap in a pile with his kids, right? He decides he can take that risk.

When sleeps claims him, he has a wide smile on his face, and on his lap there's still room for more.

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><p><strong>Nicole's AN: Aww. I'm all warm and fuzzy inside now. So, I feel a little bad (and privileged) because I got to re-read this for like the fiftieth time immediately following watching 11x8. I wish we could have shared it sooner, but I hope you all understand why we withheld this chapter. Big shout out to Irene for writing it! I think it's the therapy we all needed.**

**I also want to thank all of you who have stuck with us this far. This story has really become like a full time job - heck, more than a full time job. So much planning goes into each chapter, and each 'scene' is a several hour conversation between Irene and me. **

**Every sentence in this story has meaning. We both believe that everything happens for a reason. We're also desperately trying to keep Meredith and Derek in character, which means showing them when they're at their worst and also when they're at their best (just like the show does). God love them, but they're flawed. "We all are," to quote Derek. **


	10. Chapter 10

**Irene's A/N: Happy Sunday, readers! Before you read on, I need to warn you that part of this chapter should probably be rated M. Yep, you read right, M! And you need to thank Nicole for the awesome scenes here!  
><strong>

**Before you go on though, since we have your attention, we were wondering if you think we should up the rating to M or leave it as a T-rated story. Either way, even if we're going to decide to change the rating, we will warn you, keeping in mind those of you who don't have this in their e-mail alerts and who would otherwise miss the story from the main page, since M-rated stories don't immediately appear in the homepage unless you want them there. Let us know what you think, but enjoy the chapter first! ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

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><p>When Meredith opens her eyes, the clock reads <em>12:01. <em>It's already past midnight! Her eyes are mattered and heavy, her stomach gurgles in total emptiness, and her bladder is full. Memories of the prior evening come flooding back in surges. Memories of rainbows everywhere flash in her brain. Images of spherical rainbow-colored plates resurface in her mind. Had she really argued with Derek about _rainbow plates_? She blushes, feeling slightly ashamed of herself.

She remembers being pissed at Derek all evening, for reasons she can't recall. She remembers his mother locking them in a closet, and she remembers arguing with him. But she can't for the life of her remember what they argued about.

Her stomach churns as she remembers her early morning OB appointment and the unexpected news she'd received. Or had it all been a dream? A treacherous nightmare, perhaps?

No. It wasn't a dream. It had been real. It all had been real.

Her hand shyly drapes over her bellybutton. She is pregnant. _Pregnant_. There's a baby inside her right now.

How much longer he or she will stay inside her is the mind boggling question. She swallows a hard lump inside her throat, revisiting her conversation with Connie, whose face had lacked all elements of hope. Meredith knows better than to hope for anything.

She's not a hopeful person, she never has been, and besides, Derek's job is still in DC. He can't quit his job, and she won't let him. Another baby isn't a good enough reason for him to quit his job and move back to Seattle full time. After all, they already have two children. A third child doesn't change how she feels about him chasing his dreams, and it shouldn't change how he feels, either. This job is huge for him, he's dedicated himself to it, and she refuses to be the reason he doesn't get to be part of the revolution of neuroscience.

Meredith is happy with her two perfect angels, and she's content with never having more children. In fact, adding another child to her already busy life hadn't even crossed her mind. She doesn't _want _another baby. She wants to have a career; she wants to succeed professionally. She's seen everyone around her achieve their dreams. Cristina is in Zurich. Derek is in DC. Everyone is shining, and she is just stuck. She can't succeed professionally if she's barefoot and pregnant, running around chasing children and changing diapers for all eternity.

This isn't the life she imagined for herself.

In fact, she never imagined motherhood. Growing up, she had a terrible mother, and she'd thought she, too, would make a terrible mother. There wasn't a man in her dreams that she fantasized about meeting, and she never pictured planning a wedding like most young girls do.

She's never hated children. In fact, she's always enjoyed them. During college finals time, she always found peace watching kids play at the park. When she started doing rounds at the hospital during med school, she spent hours in the nursery. There was something about little ones that brought her peace. Relaxation. Relief. Alleviation of a hard day's stress. She loves children, and she loves being a mother, as many doubts as she has about her mothering abilities.

But three is too much. She can hardly handle the two she has. How can she take on a third child when she's barely able to handle the two she has?

A cold shiver nips up her spine as she rolls over on Derek's side of the bed. Where is he? Her memory is hazy after the closet. She remembers throwing up and running downstairs, but the rest is a blur. She remembers him being with her, though. She remembers fighting him, and telling him to go away. But he hadn't. He'd stayed by her side.

_The party. _He had promised to check on the party. She glances at the clock again. It's quarter after midnight. Surely, all the guests have gone home and her own children are asleep. Where is Derek? Had she instilled so much fear in him, that he is afraid to sleep in the same bed as her?

She stumbles into the bathroom to relieve herself, releasing a sigh of relief as the her bladder empties.

"_Have you experienced any spotting?" _Connie's words shake in her head. She checks her undies for spotting. She sighs, unsure if it's a sigh of relief or dread, when she sees none. Her stomach is screaming for food, though. Specifically, sugar. _Cake. She missed cake. _She missed practically Zola's entire party. Zola is going to hate her, for sure.

She washes her hands, then she splashes a few handfuls of water on her face to wash away the matter in her eyes. Her reflection looks back at her in the mirror. She is appalled by her wretched appearance. Wrinkles droop around her eyelids, her face looks swollen, and her hair is a ratty mess. She looks absolutely terrible, but she doesn't have time to tidy up now. It's the middle of the night, and everyone is asleep. At least, they should be.

Meredith decides to tiptoe into the kitchen, secretly hoping that they've left her a piece of cake. Though, her stomach churns at the thought of all the pizza leftovers that are likely in her refrigerator. There's no way that five little girls and four adults went through six boxes of pizza.

_Crap. Maggie! _Meredith remembers. She'd forgotten to give her directions to the house. Had she come to the party?

Meredith doesn't have time to think about her sort of half-sister for long, though, as she flips on the light switch in the kitchen to discover she's not the only one in the house awake.

Carolyn Shepherd is sitting on a bar stool holding her phone in her hand. She had, apparently, been sitting alone in the dark. The older woman meets Meredith's eyes and a friendly smile emerges on her face.

Meredith looks around the now-lit kitchen, noticing it is spotless and the kitchen smells like cinnamon Febreze. Surely, the little party girls hadn't left the house this spotless. Had Carolyn really cleaned the house for her? Really, she shouldn't have.

"Derek was hoping you'd sleep through the night," Carolyn confides, directing her gaze toward the living room couch. It's then that Meredith discovers where her husband has been. Her heart melts when she sees the sight before her: Her sleeping husband, his head cocked, resting comfortably against the top of the couch, with both of his arms around their two children. Zola's head rests peacefully against his chest, while Bailey's is in his lap. She sniffles, trying to control her hormones. The scene is too adorable. "How are you feeling?" Carolyn asks, bringing Meredith back to reality.

Meredith swallows, remembering that Carolyn knows. She wishes she didn't, because then it's just another person she has to tell when she miscarries. It's bad enough that Derek and Amelia know. The less people who know, the better. What if Carolyn tells the rest of Derek's sisters, too?

The thought mortifies her.

"Better, thanks for asking," she smiles meekly. She exhales sharply. "By the way, if you could not tell anyone about...you know...I would really appreciate that. Derek and Amelia know. I don't want anyone else knowing, for now, just in case…"

"Relax," Carolyn calmly tells her, setting her hand on the tip of Meredith's shoulder. "My lips are sealed. You and Derek tell the rest of the family when you're ready, okay?"

"T-Thanks," Meredith stumbles for words, breathing a sigh of relief. Her eyes lock with Carolyn's sincere, crisp brown eyes. Her heart beats slower as she reads the loving kindness visible on Carolyn's face. It becomes clear to Meredith that Carolyn Shepherd means her no harm. "Um, what were you doing sitting out here in the dark?" she questions, puzzled.

Carolyn tilts her head and sighs. "I was waiting for my daughter to come home. It's beginning to look like she's not going to, though. Can't say I'm terribly surprised." Carolyn glumly shakes her head, disappointment emerging onto her face.

"Amelia left?" Meredith is perplexed. What all had gone down when she and Derek were in the closet? Meredith feels terrible for having not been there, leaving Carolyn, Callie, and Callie to man the party. Then again, Carolyn had been the one to lock her and Derek in there in the first place.

Carolyn nods. "There was…" Then she stops for a moment. "Amelia got called to the hospital, and I was hoping she'd come home by now. I imagine she's purposely avoiding me, though, so of course she won't come home tonight."

Meredith senses there's more to Carolyn's story, but she isn't in a prying mood. Maybe she can talk to Amelia tomorrow about giving her mother a chance, but somehow she senses that Amelia won't be too happy with her since she bailed on confronting Maggie. Well, for all intents and purposes, Meredith hadn't planned on dodging Maggie like a bullet. It's not her fault that Carolyn Shepherd locked her in time-out for over half the party.

Right now, though, all she can think about is cake. The scent of baking still lingers inside the kitchen and is very pleasing to her nose.

"Anyway, we made sure to save you a piece of cake. I know it's past midnight…"

"I'm starving," Meredith chuckles, for once grateful that Carolyn Shepherd seems to be reading her mind.

"I'll bet you are," Carolyn laughs cordially, taking steps toward the decorated refrigerator. Pictures of Zola, Bailey, Derek, and her cover the silver refrigerator. Zola's drawings and even one of Sofia's hang tentatively on the doors. The refrigerator represents the family that eats from it, her family. Her entire life is illustrated right in front of her. It's a full picture, and there's no room to add on. _There's no room. _

Meredith breathes hastily at the thought of adding to their kitchen refrigerator. She watches as Carolyn opens the refrigerator, revealing several containers full of leftover pizza. Meredith is grateful that she's far enough back, so she can't smell the pizza-scented refrigerator. Carolyn pulls out a small container of leftover chocolate cake. Meredith salivates at the thought of its sugary goodness as Carolyn sets the piece of cake in front of her.

Meredith immediately notices the rainbow frosting. She smirks, not surprised at all. She's happy that Zola was able to have everything she wanted. The rainbow frosting is actually kind of cute, and it doesn't make her eyes hurt like the plates did earlier. She's sure Zola must have loved it.

Carolyn hands her a fork, and Meredith dives right it.

"Peppermint," Carolyn says as Meredith swallows a bite.

Meredith is instantly taken aback, because she's pretty darn sure that it's chocolate cake she's eating. At least, it certainly tastes like chocolate. She doesn't taste any peppermint.

"Huh?" Meredith asks, swallowing another piece of the chocolatey goodness. The cake tastes better than she had imagined it would. Cool cake, in her opinion, tastes better than warm cake anyway.

"For morning sickness. It helps. It's one of the only things I could stomach when I was pregnant with Derek and Lizzie. I had the worst morning sickness out of my four pregnancies with those two…"

"Yeah, you know, Derek never told me he was a twin," Meredith laughs. "To think I had to find that out from _Amelia_, but thanks. I'll definitely keep that in mind."

"You know, Derek never wanted anyone to know that he and Lizzie were twins," Carolyn reveals. "And to be honest, I'm not quite sure why. By the way, I already refilled all your candy jars with peppermint. I always carry a few bags with me as a breath freshener. Also, lemons help with nausea. Lemons and peppermints can be save lives." Carolyn chuckles.

"Thanks," Meredith smiles weakly. "I didn't have morning sickness with Bailey."

"I didn't have morning sickness with Nancy or Amelia, either, and they've turned out to be my most difficult children," Carolyn shares with a grin on her face.

Meredith sighs. "I guess I'll have to keep an eye on Bailey, huh? He already likes to hide."

"He's smart like his daddy," Carolyn nods. "Derek always liked to hide, too. Actually, there was a point during the birthday party that we couldn't find him. We were looking everywhere for him, then we found him asleep behind the couch."

Meredith chuckles. "Sounds like my little boy." Her smile quickly fades as she thinks of the party. "So, the girls had a good time?"

"The best of time," Carolyn nods. "Would you like to see pictures? I took tons, plus I took a video of her blowing out her candles. I figured you wouldn't want to miss that. Don't think for a second that I'd lock you and Derek in a closet and not record everything you missed."

Carolyn and Meredith share a brief laugh as Carolyn sets her phone on the table next to Meredith and taps through the slide show of pictures. The first image in Carolyn's camera roll revels both women into laughter: It's a picture of Derek, Zola, and Bailey asleep on the couch.

"I couldn't resist. They are too darn cute," Carolyn admits; she and Meredith steal quick glances at still-sleeping Derek and the kids on the couch. Carolyn is right. They are too darn cute.

Carolyn slides her finger across the screen, revealing pictures of Zola, Sofia, and all their little friends. Meredith's heart warms when she sees a picture of Zola showing Anatomy Jane to all her friends.

Meredith looks at the pictures of Zola's cake, fully lit with candles, and pictures of the kids gathered the counter. Then Carolyn plays the video for her of everyone singing happy birthday. For once, Meredith is grateful that Zola was so eager to open her presents early. She's happy that she and Derek were able to be there and sing her happy birthday then, too, even if they weren't in the best place at the time.

"I'm just worried she hates me," Meredith confesses once Carolyn has gone through all the pictures.

"Believe me, Meredith, she barely noticed you were missing. She was having such a good time," Carolyn assures her.

"It's just...my mother was never there for my birthday, and even though I never had birthday parties, I always wished she'd been there to share my birthday with me. All the kids at school talked about their mothers throwing them big birthday parties, and I always wondered what it was like. I wanted Zola to have that. I wanted to give her a party that my mother never gave me," Meredith confides, feeling her muscles tense as she reveals these intimate details of her childhood to her mother-in-law, recalling when Carolyn had asked her about her family when they first met and she'd dodged the questions.

"Meredith, just by you telling me that, I can tell you that you're a much better mother than your mother was to you," Carolyn divulges sentimentally. "I don't think you have to ever worry about Zola hating you. Well, except maybe when she's a teenager. All teenagers hate their mothers, no matter how good of mother you are." She releases a woeful sigh. "Unless you make the mistake of telling her at her med school graduation that you didn't think she would make it that far, then she won't talk to you for a decade. Though, I'm sure you won't make that mistake."

Meredith grimaces, reflecting on her own relationship with her mother, wondering if there was ever a time that Ellis felt like Carolyn is feeling right now. Or maybe it's just her delusional hormones planting those thoughts in her head.

"Amelia?" Meredith asks. Carolyn looks away. "She'll come around. She just needs some time. Derek didn't exactly tell her you were coming. She had to find out from me. I think it just took her by surprise."

"I asked Derek not to tell her," Carolyn admits. "I was afraid she would run if she knew I was coming. Go to LA and visit Addison or something."

Meredith chuckles. "I don't think she plans on going to LA any time soon. She broke off an engagement when she moved here."

"She did?" Carolyn looks taken aback.

"Uh...it's not really my place to say much, and I really don't know much about the whole situation myself. She doesn't like to talk about it, so I wouldn't recommend bringing it up," Meredith points out.

Carolyn sighs. "That's just the thing. I don't know how to bring up _anything _with her. She's my little girl. My baby. And it sounds like my baby has been through so much pain since I've last seen her, so I don't know what to do. I want to be there for her, I want to be able to take her in my arms like I did when she was five years old and hold her till she falls asleep. But she's not five anymore, and I don't know how to even approach her."

"You will," Meredith nods, trying to sound optimistic. "You'll figure it out. We mothers aways do."

There's a twinkle in Carolyn's eye as Meredith speaks.

Meanwhile, Meredith attempts to hide her own prevalent doubts.

"My son is lucky to have found you," Carolyn smiles knowingly. "He really does need you."

Meredith doesn't know how to respond to that statement, but her stomach twists as she finishes the last bite of cake. _Oh, not again_. She bites her lip and reaches for the candy jar on the island, uncovering the red and white striped peppermint mints that Carolyn had claimed she'd placed in all the candy jars. Meredith unwraps a mint and places one in her mouth. The nausea dissipates at once. Meredith has never been more grateful for her mother-in-law.

She shares a gracious smile with Carolyn and then eyes her sleeping husband, who has not stirred once during her conversation with his mother.

"I really should go back to bed, and you should get some rest, too, Carolyn," Meredith says, her focus shifts to her family on the couch. She sighs, trying to picture another child on Derek's lap. She can't picture it, though. Her hand hovers over her navel, trying to picture her belly growing swollen like it had when she was pregnant with Bailey, and another life being born.

She still can't picture it.

Her temples ache as the peppermint dissolves in her mouth. She stands up, walks over to Derek and gently places her hand on his knee, lightly tapping it with her finger. A corny grin overrides his face, but it quickly fades when he opens his tired blue eyes and locks eyes with his wife.

She slowly removes Bailey from his arms. _Yes, Zola and Bailey are heavy lifting, _Connie's words replay in her head. She's already lifted more than her share fair. Those nauseating pizza boxes, and she's pretty sure she picked Bailey up earlier, too. So much for no heavy lifting. At least Bailey is the lighter of her two children.

Meredith motions for Derek to take Zola to her room. He nods groggily, standing with her in his arms, and the couple heads upstairs, each holding a sleeping child.

She gently sets Bailey in his crib, praying he won't wake and she can make a clear-cut escape. Meredith plants a soft kiss on his forehead, her heart melting as she watches her baby boy sleep. Derek always says that he looks like her, but over the last few weeks she's started to see more and more of Derek in Bailey. Maybe it's because she's missed Derek, so she automatically looks for all the bits of her husband visible within her son.

Meredith makes a clean break from her son's room, able to not wake her sleeping boy. In the hallway, she meets her husband as he is exiting their daughter's room. She locks eyes with her husband for a mere second, not uttering one single word. Neither does he. Collectively, they walk downstairs together in silence.

Carolyn Shepherd is nowhere in sight when they make it to the main level. Meredith hopes that she's decided to get some rest herself.

Derek inches toward the couch.

"What are you doing?" she whispers.

He turns toward her, his face filled with hesitance.

"I thought...I didn't know…"

"Come to bed with me, Derek," she says softly, motioning for him to follow her. His eyes widen, but he doesn't dare question her.

He follows her into their bedroom and she crawls into bed, watching him change into a pair of pajamas before joining her in bed.

They lie on their backs, parallel to each other. Her hands cross at her abdomen. She cocks her head to look at him, and she sees him looking back at her. Their eyes meet, and she feels her heart rate quickening as she extends her arm, stroking his forearm with the tip of her finger. He takes her hand and strokes her knuckles.

Unconsciously, she guides his hand to her abdomen; his hand flattens on top of her belly button. She watches him smile, and she finds herself smiling too.

They've made a baby. They've made _another _baby.

She's not prepared for his next question, though.

"Can I...talk to the baby?" he asks tentatively, a glimmer of hope present in his eyes as he rubs his thumb in a circular motion around her belly button.

"Derek, I-I don't know," she replies, swallowing thickly.

"Right, I know...it's too soon," he sighs reluctantly, a frown forming on his face and he looks up at the ceiling.

"Yes," she responds abruptly, her muscles tensing as her mind changes. "You can...you should…"

His eyes lock with hers again, visible tears present in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

She nods. It's his baby, too, and he knows. She can't keep him from the baby inside her now that he knows, even knowing there's a chance the baby won't survive more than a few days. Derek did not have the chance to bond with their first baby. In a way, she's glad that he didn't, because it would have been much harder on him, already having to recover from a gunshot wound and open heart surgery. It would have been too much.

At least she'll have him to support her this time; she won't have to go through it alone, but at the same time, she doesn't want him to grieve. She doesn't want him to feel pain. She loves him too much to see him in pain.

He shifts onto his side, his warm hand rubs her belly in gentle strokes. He lowers his face closer to her still-flat belly and whispers, "Hi, baby." His voice is soft and dreamy; he captivates her with every note. He leans forward and kisses her belly button. "Daddy loves you."

Her hormones take over in full force. Pleasurable sensations tingle down her spine. Her slender fingers fold into Derek's hand, as she sits forward and her lips collide into his.

It's like gravity is pulling them together. They've been distant and celibate for almost a month. Meredith relishes the sensations that rivet through her body as she wraps her arms around his neck, and she feels him returning a kiss, their lips quickly finding their slow, sensual rhythm. Her heart rate picks up as her body slides into him, and she rolls on top of him, splaying her thighs around him, and she continues kissing him with full passion.

And then he pulls away. Why is he pulling away? Derek Shepherd never says no to sex.

"My mother," he mouths breathlessly.

Her jaw drops and she snickers, rolling her eyes. "Your mother _knows _we have sex. We have a child together, Derek."

A heartfelt smile fills his face. "Two," he whispers, lightly stroking her stomach. Her heart freezes for a split second, but she lets the comment slide, because right now...right now all she wants is Derek. She needs a time-out from all the fighting. She just needs to be with him, and she can tell from the sparkle in his eye that he needs to be with her, too.

"Derek, we really need this," she says softly.

"We do," he whispers in her ear, kissing her earlobe. "But you _have _to be quiet." He smirks, running his fingers underneath her shirt.

"I can be quiet!" she laughs.

"Mhmmm," he murmurs, leaning forward to kiss her neck, then he lifts her up, taking her fully by surprise, and she lets out a louder-than-she-expected yelp. He delicately sets her down on the bed, as if she is a fragile gift that can easily be broken if he is too rough. "Quiet, huh?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Well, you took me by surprise," she replies hastily, rolling her eyes. Right now, all she wants is to have sex with her husband. She doesn't care if his mother is upstairs, and she doesn't care if Carolyn Shepherd hears them having loud, mind-blowing sex. It's not like they're teenagers, after all. They're married adults who are allowed to have a sex life.

"Shhh," he sooths, sliding off her sweatpants, running his hands behind her calves, rubbing heedfully behind her kneecaps. She shivers, tingling sensations jolting throughout her entire body.

"Der," she murmurs, panting; he leans forward, kissing her neck ever so delicately, and he throws his shirt over his head and tosses it aside. She digs her nails through his soft thick hair, oh how she's missed him, and his hands warily press against her skin, moving up her hips, landing on top of her mid section. She's breathing heavily; she wants him. No, she _needs _him.

His kisses lower onto her collar bone, an indulging moan evokes from her mouth. She breathes heavier as his mouth pauses on her bosom, his tongue does circles around her nipples and a much louder moan escapes her lips. His hands captivate her as they wrap around her behind, his thumbs massaging her buttox in a circular motion. Her breath quickens; she cries out his name, begging for him.

A defiant smirk crosses his face as he looks down on her, though behind the defiance, she sees love, compassion, and gratitude in his sparkling blue eyes. In this moment, Derek Shepherd manages to steal her heart all over again.

Memories come flooding back to her, those of which had crossed her mind several hours ago, when she'd languished at the thought that they could never go back there. She remembers when their relationship was in its infancy, and they would stay up all night having sex, not caring if they had to be to work at five in the morning the next day. The days before kids. The days before the president entered their lives. Back when things were much simpler.

Suddenly, she feels as if she's reliving those days all over again, even if it's just in her imagination. She wants to hold onto this moment forever.

She yells out his name at the top of her lungs, eliciting long, powerful moans as his fingers stroke her bottom lips. _So much for being quiet. _She doesn't care, and he doesn't seem to anymore, either. He's not even inside her yet, and she's losing control. Her head spins euphorically when his fingers plunge inside her.

"Meredith, God," he moans, pushing his fingers deeper and deeper, as deep as he can go. "You're so wet."

She begs for more. She begs for _him_.

And then all the sensations die way at once as he returns his hands to his sides. He bends over her and pushes her hair behind her ears. "I can be a tease, too," he whispers in her ear.

"Wh-I am _not _a tease!" she gasps at the accusation.

"Mmmm. You were totally leading me on in the closet," he teases in a low voice.

"I was not!" she argues, not wanting to think about their earlier dispute, though she's pretty sure that she did not do what he's claiming she did. At least not intentionally. It's the farthest thing from her mind right now, though. "Der, I don't-"

Before she can finish, she feels his deep thrust inside her; her body morphs to accommodate him for the first time in almost a month; a resounding shriek leaves her lips, followed by a series of curse words. She has lost total control of her body. Derek owns her.

"So...tight…" he pants, and her world implodes.

It's like an out of body experience as their hips move in alliance. The surreality of the moment sends Meredith's nerves into a frenzy. The rising tensions from almost a month's long separation are felt in every muscle of her body, sending her close to the edge.

She pants his name over and over, chanting a series of swear words, shrieking in a complete and total abundances of pleasure. He moans her name back, and all she can think about is how much she's missed him, and how much love she has for him.

Time ceases to exist as they dance in sex. She rolls on top of him, her turn to take control. She straddles him, ready to subvert him to her willpower. His eyes are dazzling and lustrous, and he's looking at her mysteriously, like a little boy who's waiting to uncover the prize at the bottom of the cereal box. She can't remember the last time she's seen him this giddy. Perhaps the last time they were together. _The night they made a baby._

She tosses that thought aside as she begins exploring his body. From head to toe. She runs her fingers through his thick hair, running her fingers down the back of his neck, feeling as the tips of his neck hairs stand up. She kisses the side of his neck, and then his Adam's apple, and then her mouth slides to his chest.

Her fingers freeze in the center between his nipples, where a faded scar lies, the single physical residue of the time she'd almost watched her husband die before her eyes. She traces that scar with her finger, feeling thankful that he didn't die. That she's able to share this moment with him because he didn't die that day.

She kisses his scar, and then each of his nipples, then she hugs her arms around his strong shoulders, embracing him, loving him. She kisses his cheek before she adjusts herself on top of him, and they become connected as one again. Slow passionate movements rise from her hips, a shiver shoots down her spine as the cool air brushes against her warm back as her movements become faster. A cordial moan escapes Derek's lips.

"S….close…." he ravishes, pulling her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist, and he lifts her body up and throws her against the bed, much rougher than he had the last time. His body trembles as he comes on top of her again, grasping firmly onto her legs. Her heart palpitates, thudding with rhythmic pulsations against her chest. He kisses the back of her knee, before riding into her again, sending euphoria through every limb of her body. All her worries dissipate as she breaks over the edge. Their heavy breaths unify, her toes curl, and her back arches as she marvels in one final thrill ride. The last hurrah.

Nothing else matters.

He collapses beside her, his hand lands on her stomach.

"I love you so much, Meredith," he gasps breathlessly.

She swallows thickly, catching her own breath. "I love you, too," she whispers, leaning closer to him.

"Round two?" he chuckles, and they both glance at the clock. It's past four in the morning.

"Rain check," she giggles softly, but that giggle soon fades. "I have to work tomorrow - well today - and you have to go back to DC."

"My flight doesn't leave until the evening," he tells her, pulling her closer, his body heat radiating against hers. "So, we definitely have time for that rain check...and, Meredith, we really need to talk about…" There's a hint of hesitance in his voice.

She bites her lip, knowing that was coming. Heck, she knew it was coming from the moment she blurted out she was pregnant. It's one of the many reasons she _didn't _want to tell him. She'll dodge that conversation for as long as she can.

"Not now, Der," she whispers. "I'm tired, and we need to be up in a few hours." She slides her sweatpants back on and tosses his clothes at him.

She hears him release a loud sigh as he puts his pajamas back on. She turns her back away from him and holds onto her pillow, but she soon feels his firm arms wrap around her; and he pulls her body closer to his. His hands rest on her waist, slowly sliding around her abdomen; she lets go of her pillow, resting her hands on top of his.

They fit together like a puzzle.

God, she's missed him.

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><p><strong>Nicole's AN: The moment you all have been waiting for! I hope it was worth the wait. There were some concerns about this story coming to an end soon, and I just want to assure you all that this story is nowhere near finished. It's not even one-third finished. Irene and I have pages and pages of notes, and we'll be writing this story all hiatus and beyond. It's going to be a roller coaster, but I hope you all will stick with us for the ride. **


	11. Chapter 11

**Nicole's A/N: Happy Thanksgiving (to everyone in the US)! In honor of this family-orientated holiday and the first official Thursday of hiatus, we invite you to enjoy some time with your favorite McFamily. There's no turkey, but there are pancakes. Thank Irene for the wonderful job she's done with this chapter!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

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><p>Something is poking Derek in the stomach, something bony and hard and really uncomfortable. Doesn't feel like Meredith's elbow either.<p>

He blinks blearily through the fog of sleep, groaning at the invasion of the dim light. How long since he has been up with the sun and not eons before? Despite the late night spent between the sheets, Derek feels perfectly rested like he hasn't been in a long, long time.

He snuggles up to Meredith, sighing in bliss as he reaches for her, only to find a slightly smaller body there.

Sounds finally start to make sense as he blinks one more time.

"Sun is up, wake up!" he hears, before the air is being knocked out of his lungs by a giggling body slamming against him.

"Whattimesit?" he groans, trying to grab the sheets and hide a little longer, only to have more bouncing on his chest.

"Time to rise and shine, Daddy!"

He hears Meredith giggle beside him, her warm body sliding closer to his, Bailey between them now as Zola keeps bouncing on his stomach.

"It's not that early, Der," Meredith sighs, nuzzling her nose against his cheek, looking incredible first thing in the morning. A smile blossoms on his lips. His whole family is there, in their bed, smiling and being happy together.

He truly believes it's all a dream still.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

No, Zola wouldn't have such an high-pitched voice in his dream. He's definitely not dreaming anymore. It's probably even better he's not dreaming.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't keep them out any longer," he turns towards the door, where his mother is leaning against the frame, smiling widely.

"It's okay," Meredith replies next to him, and he sees her cuddle Bailey close to her chest. Bailey looks a lot sleepier than Zola, clearly also not a morning person like his mother, one more trait that makes him her carbon copy. "We had to be up soon anyway."

Derek steadies Zola when she almost falls from the straddle against his stomach, giggling madly, her hair in desperate need of a comb and a braid.

"Come here," he grins, wrapping his arms tightly around her, laying Zola horizontally against his chest, syncing their breaths. "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Zola frowns a little, then she springs up from his chest. "Mama!"

"What is it, Lovebug?" Meredith asks, sliding up a little against the headboard.

"Daddy telled me you have a belly ache that hurted lots because you couldn't stop eating pizza…"

Meredith is about to set the record straight, when she clues in, and sends him a grateful smile and a wink. God, he wants to pick up exactly where they left off the night before. He needs to worship her all over again.

"Mama's belly is feeling so much better now..."

"I should kiss it better for the quickestest 'covery!" Zola grins, scrambling out of Derek's arms, pushing Bailey aside. The boy grunts, rolling in Derek's arms, but then settles gladly in his father's hold, trying to blink away the sleep.

Derek feels suddenly a hundred times more awake as he watches their daughter kiss Meredith's still-flat belly, his eyes stinging with happy tears, the same he sees mirrored in Meredith's gaze.

"All beder now, Mama!"

Meredith lets out a shaky sigh, pulling up Zola for a hug and a kiss on her cheek. "Thank you so much, sweetie."

Derek gulps, his mind already imagining Zola kissing Meredith's swollen belly in just a few months, maybe even rambling to the baby as much as she can, just like she likes to do with them. He can envision more mornings like this one, snuggling in bed, all five of them, born or unborn, trying to enjoy the last minutes of family time before their lives pull them apart, sometimes for days or weeks on end. The picture is clear as day in his head, he can't erase it anymore.

"Oh Mommy, you're so soft, I could hug you forever," Zola sighs, triggering their hilarity. Meredith giggles and Derek chuckles with her as they try to slide as close as they can with the kids between them. They manage to find their hands, but it's more than enough for a connection. They need everything to be real, even if this floating effect of happiness surely doesn't feel real at all.

"Mama, up!" Bailey giggles from Derek's arms, trying to crawl all over Zola, only to settle at Meredith's side. Meredith turns on her hip, depositing Zola next to her and all of them spoon, Bailey and Zola fitting against Meredith like a jigsaw puzzle, Derek wrapping his longer arms around them, wishing he could keep them all this close for a lot longer.

It's a tangle of bodies and limbs and heat and sleep sweat smells, some morning breath and wet diaper wafting in the air too, but it feels magical. It feels like the best reason to be home.

He has no idea how long they remain there in that cocoon, the kids poking one another in between their parents' arms, Derek locking eyes with Meredith and seeing the million emotions there. He feels almost as excited as he did when they were starting to try for a baby; when they had a slow morning like this one they would just lay in bed a little longer and hold one another. He imagined all of their children in those mornings, all the kinds of families they could build, but this one, the one they actually made, is even more perfect than all of his dreams. He can't express how grateful he is to have this family with Meredith.

He can't imagine how he can leave his wife and children behind to go back to DC now.

"Alright, kids," his mother says from the door, appearing with the same teary smile from before, a smile he hardly remembers seeing in on her. Was it his medical school graduation the last time it had appeared? Maybe even earlier. His heart feels so full. "Are you ready to eat breakfast?" she asks, winning a squeal from Zola.

"Oh, I'm so hungry! I want cake, Nana!"

Carolyn grins. "What about you help me make pancakes? Does Mommy ever let you help with pancakes?"

"No, but Auntie Amy does!" Zola giggles, jumping off the embrace, scrambling down the bed at lightening speed, more giggles exploding out of Meredith. "I wanna help! I gotta try on the new apron!" Zola chants until she reaches her grandmother, then grabs her hand in a vice grip.

"Okay, let's get Bailey first, so that your parents can get out of their pj's." Carolyn smiles, picking up the squirmy, laughing boy from the middle of the bed.

Meredith is already up. "He has a dirty diaper, I can take him…"

"Oh, you stay put, it's not like it's the first diaper I have ever changed," the older woman dismisses her with a shrug, closing the door behind her back and leaving Meredith standing there, a little taken aback.

Derek sighs loudly, watching his wife stand there in the winter morning light, her hair tousled, her clothes wrinkled, put on hastily after the last romp in between the sheets, her eyes tired and sparkling. She turns towards him with a puzzled expression, her mouth opening and closing, her hand flicking towards the door.

"I think I'm going to take a shower," she sighs then, deflated.

Derek laughs loudly, crawling down to the edge of the bed to immobilize her. He wraps his legs around her calves, careful to keep her upright as he imprisons her in his hold, turning her to face him. She towers above him, some of her hair falling around her face and she pulls them back, even more confused.

"Come on, let me go," she giggles, but he only wraps his arms around her midsection too, his eyes level with her navel. He doesn't resist the urge to kiss her bellybutton through the fabric of her shirt.

Meredith sighs loudly, and he smiles up at her, his words slow and deliberate: "I could use a shower too."

She looks at him sternly for a moment, before she lets out the most perfect giggle, her whole body shaking in his arms as he starts laughing with her. He leans his ear over her abdomen, relishing the presence of their baby there, his eyes closing for a moment, almost praying to see it grow and round up.

He feels giddy with expectation.

He pulls her down for a kiss as their laughter subsides, and all the playfulness suddenly ignites. All the passion of the night before is still there, the chemistry intact even after a month of celibacy. It's been a while since they had sex at night and then in the morning, with the kids and their busy jobs it was a rarity even being together for these two moments; for the first time he questions why he hasn't invited his mother to Seattle before.

Meredith is panting and smiling and glowing when they pull away from the kiss, her turn to take charge as she pulls him up from the bed from the neck of his t-shirt, then sneaks her long fingers into his hair. She massages his scalp while she plays with his lips, and he might as well have died and gone to heaven. She is heavenly, she's a goddess.

She moans, keeping him close, forcing him to wonder how he could survive for so long without her tongue in his mouth, and why this is not the very first thing they had done when she showed up in the playroom as he set up the party, instead of arguing.

"Shower," she pants, breathless, sparkling.

"We don't want to have breakfast dirty," he laughs, sucking in a deep breath as he uncovers her bare chest, his lips stretching into a wider smile when he noticed that she's not wearing a bra under the shirt he promptly tosses away somewhere in their room.

He wants to worship her body again, engrave all the features he has refreshed the night before in his brain, trying to detect all the subtle changes in her body, or the things that were still the same, the need to claim her as his overpowering.

"Quickie," Meredith mumbles against his lips, and he knows she's right, but damn, he needs more time than a quickie to do to her all the things he has in mind.

He moves his mouth from her jaw down the column of her neck as she swiftly pulls at the drawstrings of his pants, making him gulp when she brushes her hands against him. She giggles, the tease. He takes his revenge with his tongue, driving her mad as he licks and swirls and laps at her breast, slowly moving their bodies backwards.

He pins her against the door, and she's already desperate for him. Hell, he's probably just as desperate for her as if it were their very first time after a year. He wants her. He needs her.

She curls her leg against his thighs, tilting her hips to meet his, discarding his t-shirt, fumbling with his pants and dropping them at his ankles. Only the fabric of their underwear separates them now, and he moans in bliss. Well, her lips on his collarbone aren't helping keeping him quiet either.

"No bendy thing," she whispers against his ear as they finally make it naked into the bathroom and lock the door. She tiptoes towards their shower and switches it on, making it purr to life.

There are little droplets of water on her skin as she hurries out of the stall with freezing water, and he's quick to kiss away each one of them as the water warms up.

Steam is wafting up from the water spray by the time they make it into the stall, together.

"No bendy thing, you say?" he growls around her earlobe as he kisses it, grabbing her leg to curl it around his hip.

"Not for quickies," she replies, looking genuinely disappointed. Honestly, he was looking forward to the bendy thing. There's time for the bendy thing before he has to go back to DC, he can live with this quickie.

"What if I wanted to go slow?" he mumbles as he moves his kisses all over her torso, crating an haphazard path, his hands steadying her, but roaming freely as well.

She shakes her head, but he has no idea if it's an answer to his question or it's because he just found her mound with his finger.

"Oh, there," she mewls, her eyes rolling back, her head hitting the wall as he keeps driving her wild with only one hand. It's disarming the power he has over her, with only two fingers. She makes him feel like he has the world at his feet.

"No time for this, Der…" she stutters as she writhes against the tiles, clutching at his shoulders, her body flushed and pink with arousal.

"We'll make time," he growls, knowing that just a few more strokes and flicks in the right places can send her over the edge. And he knows her well at this point. He hasn't forgotten an inch of her.

She chants his name in surrender, her body keeping his fingers captive, relaxing progressively as she grows slack in his arms. He doesn't want to give her a reprieve though, and she doesn't want one either.

He hisses in pleasure as her shaky fingers wrap around him and her eyes lock with his. Her gaze is glazed over, but her hold is firm, her strokes and lithe touches making him buck his hips towards her.

"God, Mer…" he growls, unable to help himself.

She giggles, she actually giggles at his expenses, throwing her head back in abandon, her turn to drive him mad with a single hand.

"Too bad you were so giving this morning. I told you we had to be quick…" she lets go of him, squirming away from his arms, leaving him bereft and pent up, stunned.

"You can't do that!" he protests weakly, feeling shaken up, unfinished, incoherent.

Meredith laughs again, only to kiss him with all she has once more, backing their bodies against the opposite wall, shivering as her heated back makes contact with the colder tiles.

"You're not the only one who needs more," she whispers in his ear, before he feels his body slide into hers as she wraps her leg around him again. "And you like it when I'm a tease."

Oh, he does like Meredith as a tease indeed, that's for sure.

They groan in pleasure, the sensation of being joined with Meredith like this never getting old, no matter how many years have passed. He relishes the moment as he puts his hands under her thighs and lifts her up, keeping her pinned against the wall, changing the angle of their connection, almost killing both of them on the spot.

"You are an amazing tease," he chortles, halfway between a laugh and pure pleasure. She moans with a similar tone as they connect again and again, unable to say more.

She looks at him so intensely it almost feels like an outer body experience.

When she whispers "I love you, Derek," in his ear, he's pretty sure he might as well be in heaven already.

His hips move like a wave once, twice, before he repeats "I love you, Meredith," his voice barely above a growl, almost covered by her low moan.

Then the tenderness is gone, and so is the teasing, just their bodies remain, their bodies and their movements, the back and forth, the growls and the moans, the fingers clawing at his back and the hands buried in his hair, the hands gripping her hips and the lips kissing equally swollen lips. The rest of the world disappears down the drain.

Oblivion never looked better, his vision blurring as he tries to keep his coherence as Meredith lets go and starts shaking against him, tipping him into blissful release with her, his whole body out of his control.

It takes him a minute to start feeling the warm water pelting his back or Meredith's chest rising and falling against his, her slow, secret smile blossoming on her lips like the most beautiful of flowers.

She is his wife. Forever. He has forever with her.

He can totally smile like a dork, now.

* * *

><p>He's watching her put on clothes.<p>

Derek helped her undress, and now he seems equally turned on as she puts the sweats back on. He's hopeless. Sure it was a quickie, but there's breakfast in the kitchen…

She can't believe she's this hungry, though the slice of cake she has consumed way past her bedtime was burned at record speed. And that's probably the only reason why it hasn't resurfaced a couple of hours earlier. That, and Carolyn's magic peppermint. She needs to stock up on that.

Anyhow, Derek is watching her.

"Derek, stop it with the goofy grin. It's annoying." She's a liar, she loves his sated, goofy grin, and his damp hair falling messily around his face as he tries to tame them. "We don't have time for round two," she repeats, trying to convince herself too. She rolls her eyes, but she feels her cheeks heat up as he keeps looking at her like _that_.

The smile he gives her could melt Antarctica.

"Well, it's only eight in the morning, there's plenty of time for round two before tonight…"

Yeah, her eyes are rolling, otherwise her body would be on fire all over again, and they need to go have breakfast or the kids will be back in their room. She doesn't want to be responsible for giving her kids' therapy; they will require therapy either way, but she'd like to have a more indirect consequence for that.

"I smell pancakes," she says, trying to distract themselves.

Derek chuckles. "They will be the best pancakes you'll ever eat, I promise." Derek grins, his eyes sparkling in boyish mischief and genuine love.

"I just hope they won't come back up anytime soon. I swear I wasn't puking like this before last night," she sighs, her happiness deflating a little.

"I'm sorry," he says with a guilty smile, moving closer to rub her still bare belly.

"Der, you should wait for the test results before you start with the belly rubs." Meredith shakes her head. She knows the baby is there now, and that might not be there tomorrow, but she's grateful Derek can give their baby all that love, even with the knowledge that he or she might not ever make it through the first trimester, let alone survive until next week. It needs to be loved unconditionally by someone, at least_. _

"I'm already picturing things in my head, with the five of us eating dinner together and vacations and other stupid cheesy things, Meredith. I'm a goner already, I'm done."

"God, five. We'll be a family of five." Her head is all over the place, she can't wrap it around the mere idea that she'll be responsible for three little people, and share her life with them and Derek for a long, long time, hopefully.

She's grateful Derek is there to shower their baby with love, to hold her hair back when she throws up and to make the children smile. She will never admit it out loud, but she's grateful he's there.

"We are five, Meredith. Right now."

She nods, trying not to let the hormones take over, as he pulls her into his arms. He smells like them now, like him and her bath soap mixed together in the perfect blend after they have actually showered.

"I have blood work scheduled at ten this morning, to see if the hCG values have doubled, or at least increased, then we can know more about it, make more plans."

Derek hums, pulling a little away from her to study her eyes, running his hand through her hair. "Can I come?"

Meredith nods without feeling too overwhelmed about it. He deserves to be there when they are going to turn their worlds upside-down. And he needs to see their baby, like she saw it yesterday. Connie might not be so enthusiastic about back-to-back exams, because they are pointless, she knows that, but yesterday she was so busy freaking out that she forgot to bring home the print-out of the sonogram, and Derek needs to see their embryo. He's in love already, he needs to see it.

"Are you ready for pancakes?" he asks, his voice still filled with the glee of his smile. He looks just about as delicious as the smell coming from the kitchen.

"I'm starving."

The both of them laugh while they walk out of their bedroom. Derek places his hand on the small of her back, guiding her down the corridor, his heat comforting and almost foreign after spending so much time apart.

"Do I need to be prepared for nine months of weird cravings and a perpetually starving wife?" Derek grins, making Meredith giggle as they walk into the kitchen, receiving a long look from Carolyn.

"'Morning," Meredith says, kissing both her children's heads. Zola is sitting on the regular chair of the kitchen table, her legs dangling barely above the floor, her pancakes drowned in the chocolate topping, while Bailey occupies the highchair next to his sister, studying with fascination every morsel of pancake that Carolyn has divided up for him.

"I hope pancakes are okay," Carolyn asks, her smile suddenly a little tighter, and Meredith is sure her mother-in-law is as close to worried as she can get.

"A dream come true," Derek grins, walking closer to his mother to kiss her cheek. Meredith revels a little in the sight of Derek and Carolyn together, since she has gotten the change to see them like this only once when she was more worried about breathing rather than appreciating this.

Of course her breaths are still a little uneven, but after their late night conversation Meredith definitely feels more confident being around Carolyn. The woman has great advice, and Meredith appreciated the unexpected mothering that she has already organized.

"Coffee?" Meredith turns to Derek with a smile, already grabbing a mug for him. Honestly, she's sure he'd want coffee, she just wants to steal one more glance.

Derek moves closer, coming to stand practically behind her before he nods and hums: "Of course."

Her hands are shaking, her brain is still reeling from their night and their shower, and she's pretty sure she will drop the mug if Derek doesn't back away a little. Instead, he places one hand on her hip, so close to her bellybutton she practically shivers in the half-hug, and then he places a soft, lingering kiss on her neck, just because he's close enough to do so.

Her whole body tingles.

A fork drops loudly on one of the plates, breaking the moment, and Meredith sighs in relief. Derek is clouding her head with his dreaminess, as much as she loves to have her McDreamy back. She won't trade McAss for anything again, though she knows their issues are long from being resolved.

Meredith turns to see Zola with her eyes wide and her mouth open even wider, and she's grateful there are no pancake chunks in there too. She can't stomach more chunks of anything for a little while. Maybe she'll get to have an early evening sickness, and maybe pizza will trigger the nausea, but so far she doesn't want to rule out stress either. Still, she would gladly never embrace the porcelain god ever again.

"Mommy!" Zola squeals, putting her hands in front of her mouth in a perfect grown-up girl expression of surprise. _How come she's already looking so big when her birthday was only yesterday?_

"What is it?"

"My birfday wish became true!" Her squeals cover the clink of the mug as Meredith lays it on the counter before grabbing the half-filled pot of coffee.

"I wisheded that you and Daddy would stop yelling and you said sorry and were nice to each other and it happened! Oh Mama, birfday wishes are the best thing about a birfday!"

She can clearly hear Derek take a deep intake of breath next to her, and she's pretty sure she has stopped breathing for as long as Zola has rambled. Her little girl wanted them to stop fighting. She…

"Birthday wishes are powerful stuff," Carolyn comments, smiling at Zola, saving the day. Both Meredith and Derek are too stunned to reply.

Meredith feels tears in her eyes, and Zola remains blurred for a long, long second, until Derek crouches in front of her chair, their eyes aligned as she studies him.

"Zola, Mommy and I…" he gulps, and Meredith feels herself shaking. He won't be _that_ stupid and tell her about...He can't be that brainless. "Mommy and I are fighting because it's easier for me to go back to work far from you guys if I'm mad at your mommy."

His voice is shaking, and she needs to lean against the counter for support. She grips the edge, trying to remain steady and upright, pushing back the tears.

"But Daddy…"

"You don't have to worry about me leaving forever, or Mommy leaving forever, because it's not going to happen. I know that I'm far away a lot, but I will always come back."

"Cause Sofia's mommies don't live together no more and they yelled lots. And Tommy's parents were yelling lots and all of a sudden he had a new mommy and a new daddy and he changed house and his daddy took his dog!"

Meredith gulps at the panic she sees in her daughter's face, and she can't fathom the idea of hurting her daughter like that, ever. Even if her life is going to be miserable forever, she can't leave Derek. He's it. There's no one else for her. She thought it was silly repeating 'til death do us part when they had already promised they'd be here forever in their post-it, but now she can see why it mattered for him.

They are bound, and most of the time, it's a pleasurable link, a fun connection. It's the times when it feels like a noose that they need to stick to their guns, push through and come to the other side. Having two documents binding them to that surely helps.

"Zola, I love Mama. It's hard being away from all of you for so long, and she doesn't like being here all alone with you guys here either, but Daddy has to work, and sometimes work is not pleasant or nice, or what we envisioned it to be, but we have to do it."

"I don't want a new mommy, I like the mommy I have now!" she cries, and Meredith instinctively runs over to her and embraces her.

She feels so big in her arms, and so scared.

Meredith runs her hand down her back as she lets her hide into her neck, the both of them needing the connection almost more than oxygen. Zola is holding onto her for dear life, and she wonders how they can make room for more when this is barely standing, how can Derek be so optimist? She has no idea how she can believe, but she knows one thing, one thing her daughter desperately needs to hear.

"There won't be any new daddies or new mommies thrown at you, we promise. I love your Daddy, even when it seems like I hate him."

"How can I know you love him when you yell?" Zola whispers against her neck, scared, almost trembling. Meredith holds her tighter.

"You know above the big bed in our room there's a picture with a blue square in it?" Zola nods, and Meredith feels the hint of a smile on her lips at the memory of their post-it. "Until that square is up, you don't have to worry. So if you get scared you just knock on that door and go check if the post-it is still there."

Zola sighs, but she doesn't seem much convinced. "If I hate Bails I don't love him at the same time. Do you gots superpows?" Zola frowns, pulling away from her chest to lock eyes with her. Her knees are bony on her thighs and the balance they have established is precarious, but she doesn't care.

Meredith giggles, and so does Derek. "No, no superpowers involved here, Lovebug." Zola is even more focused now, ready for the explanation. "You know, not all boys are going to be like your daddy. There are going to be boys that you hate and you don't love at the same time, and those...You can't marry those boys. Then there's going to be one boy that no matter what he does, no matter what you say to one another, you'll still love him. That's the boy you have to marry. Or the girl, it can always be a girl, just like Aunt Callie and Aunt Arizona."

"I think I'll marry a girl. Boys are gross." Zola knits her eyebrows, stealing a glance towards Bailey, who's practically covered in butter by then.

Meredith finally laughs loudly, easily, and it warms up her heart. "Daddy is not that gross," she says, looking up to meet his eyes. And he does look anything but gross right in that second, stacking up more pancakes and preparing his own plate. Wait, is he putting on the honey-and-cinnamon syrup on a stack? Is he making those for her?

Derek smiles, winks, and she knows the stack is for her. She craved those when she was pregnant with Bailey, and she guesses he wants to think positive, believe in the good outcome like it happened with Bailey. She might still be on the fence for that, but she's surely not on the fence when it comes to those pancakes.

"Mama, how come last night you were yelling at Daddy so loud you woke me up, if you and Daddy made up? That was not nice."

Meredith gulps. "Last night?"

"Yeah. You said lots of bad words, Mommy. That was not nice at all."

Meredith bleaches, and Carolyn bursts into laughter. She shares a terrified look with Derek, who's practically the color of a very ripe tomato, in their eyes glimmers of utter fear and amusement. She has to disagree on the not nice at all, that's for sure.

"We yelled last night, and we're sorry," she bites her lip, trying not to laugh too loudly, "but then we made up. We looked at the post-it, and we knew we should have stopped yelling."

"Good. 'Cause it went on for a looooong, looooong time."

Carolyn is practically doubled over in laughter by then, winning a double puzzled look from the kids. Meredith and Derek are mortified.

"Zo, if we have to fight to make up, we promise we'll be quiet, alright?" Meredith kisses the girl's cheek, blushing even more. Zola nods eagerly, kissing her back.

Meredith lets go of Zola now that the crisis has passed, her girl eager to dig into her chocolate-flavored pancakes face first, much like her brother. Derek has time to sneak up between Meredith and put the pancakes right in front of her.

"You know, we should totally go fight some more now," Derek whispers in her ear and Meredith is sure she's about to self-combust. _Stupid, inappropriate McDreamy_. She ignores him, but his bright smile is a little harder to ignore.

Behind him, Carolyn places one of the wrapped mints next to the plate, her turn to wink. Derek looks puzzled.

"For the nausea." Carolyn explains, and Meredith swears her voice is a little chocked up and that are tears in her eyes, and not tears of laughter either. Derek's eyes sparkle in understanding instead.

His eyes have been sparkling a lot since last night. Must have been the orgasms? She'll revel in them either way. Even if their daughter heard them, they were orgasms worth being heard for.

He comes to stand behind her again, his hand on her shoulder, before he sits on the empty bar stool next to her, his hand not leaving her body, simply shifting with him against her skin. He rests it on her thigh, or her forearm or her back; he seems unable to pull away and for once, she doesn't mind the hovering and the closeness. She has missed him just as much.

"It's too bad we can't pick up where we left off during our shower now that the kids need a bath," he whispers, so close to her ear she barely hears it. The vibrations of his voice would have been enough to turn her into a crazy hormonal basket case. She flicks off his chest to try and cool off a little.

It hardly works.

"I love you too, Meredith, you know that," he breathes out, locking eyes with her, before he places a gentle kiss over her lips, soft and quick, but so unexpected.

He tastes like coffee.

_Crap_.

Coffee is almost as bad as pizza, it seems. Maybe even worse. She tries breathing through her nose, but it doesn't work. She closes her eyes, and feels relief only when she smells the peppermint. Derek has opened one of the candy in the jar and he has put it under her nose, a sad smile on his lips.

"Sorry. You were crazy for the taste of coffee with Bailey…" he says, genuinely puzzled, though.

Meredith can't reply with more than a quick, sad smile and a deep sigh. The nausea seems to subside momentarily, but oh, how wrong she was in dismissing it.

She barely finishes the most delicious pancakes she has ever tasted before they end up in the ground floor toilet too.

She feels gross once again, and Derek, Derek is there again, kneeling next to her, his hand on her back. She doesn't deserve his kindness, she doesn't deserve any of this.

He has her toothbrush and one more peppermint candy ready in his hands, a sympathetic smile unmovable on his lips. Her whole body feels like a truck has run her over, she's sure she'll have a headache before tonight, and she has no idea how she can repair stomachs today after seeing the full contents of hers twice in less than twelve hours.

"It's almost time for us to leave. Mom said she can watch the kids today, she's more than happy to spend some time with them."

Meredith sighs. "Are you sure? She cleaned the whole house last night and now she wants to watch the kids?"

"She always has kids around the house, she misses the little ones." His eyes are twinkling in the dim morning light filtering from the window, clearly excited to add more to her number of grandchildren now.

She has missed him so much.

"We'll tell Connie about the nausea, alright?" he adds, placing a kiss on her temple as she starts brushing her teeth.

"It's normal to have nausea, Derek. She'll tell you that."

"Still. I want to make sure…" Meredith nods, knowing that they're thinking the same thing; he doesn't really need to finish that thought just yet. "Do you need more peppermint?"

Meredith smiles, spitting in the sink one last time. "I need to pee. Maybe shower for real this time?"

Derek laughs, kissing her cheek once again, before he exits the bathroom.

Meredith's smile fades all of a sudden. She can't remember the last time he has smiled so widely, and she's almost guilty. She feels a twist in her gut, something that it's not nausea at all, but she can't pinpoint the feeling.

Her answer to her gut feeling though shows up crimson on her panties.

"_Have you experienced any spotting?"_ Yes. Now she has. And she has no idea if she feels more relieved or sad or worried.

She lays her back against the toilet, tilting her head a little, staring at the ceiling and the light fixtures, taking deep breaths.

There's not much blood, but there wasn't much blood on her panties either the first time she miscarried, she thought she was starting her period after all. The blood came later, warm and deadly on her thighs, on her scrubs, on the floor. For days.

She swallows back a sob, takes a deep breath. Maybe this baby is not meant to be, after all.

* * *

><p>I<strong>rene's AN: *slowly backs away into hiding***

**Guys, this was the perfect Thanksgiving chapter, right? ;) Do not despair though, they are going to see the doctor soon, and you will all know more...**

**Apart from all that, there are a lot of conflicting emotions here, Derek is giddy as if it were Christmas, Meredith has no idea how to feel. I loved writing this chapter, especially Zola and Bailey (they are always a blast), so I hope you loved reading it as much as I did. Thank you for stopping by!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Irene's A/N: Happy Sunday readers, and we hope you had a good Thanksgiving weekend!**

**We split the chapter in two because it was getting massive (it's already massive, and this is only part one!), so ****there's a scene that might look randomly placed there, but there's a reason for it. **** Most of the awesomeness in this chapter is brought to you by Nicole, so don't forget to thank her!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

* * *

><p>Meredith takes another shower, cleansing her body of all the blood and vomit. After she finishes rinsing the filth from her body and getting dressed, she finds the main level completely abandoned. She climbs the stairs to find her daughter sitting on her bed playing with a puzzle. Behind her, her grandmother is brushing her hair. Well, <em>attempting <em>to brush her hair.

Zola's face lights up with joy when she sees her mother enter the room.

"Mama!" the little girl cries desperately. "Nana don't know how to do my hair. You gots to show her."

Meredith chuckles, getting lost in her daughter's precious brown eyes, all her worries dissolving as her heart warms. She joins Carolyn and Zola on the bed.

"She's right," Carolyn sighs, shaking her head. "I have absolutely no idea how to do her hair."

Meredith giggles. "Derek had no idea how to, either. One time I was out of town, and one of our co-workers had to show him how."

"Mommy, teach her 'bout my kitchen!" Zola exclaims in a demanding tone. She lays another piece of the puzzle together. It's then that Meredith gets a clear view of the puzzle for the first time. The box sits nearby, revealing the full image of the human body. It's only an eight-piece puzzle set, though it's eight pieces Meredith has never seen. She's certain that she never purchased Zola this puzzle. She watched Zola unwrap all her gifts yesterday, and there hadn't been a puzzle among any of those gifts. Not that she can recall, anyway.

It's not like Zola doesn't have lots of toys, but Meredith is sure that she would have remembered seeing this puzzle before, because she, too, had a similar looking puzzle when she was Zola's age. She doesn't remember what happened to that puzzle, though.

Perhaps Carolyn had found another present when she cleaned the house.

Zola taps her arm, bringing her out of the daze she had entered. "Mama, kitchen."

Meredith nods. "That's right, baby girl. You have a kitchen. Let's teach Grandma about your kitchen, okay?" She combs through Zola's knotted hair, showing her mother-in-law how it's done.

"You're a pro," her mother-in-law compliments.

"Oh, trust me. I'm no natural either," Meredith laughs, pulling Zola's thick curly hair into two perfect even braids. "When Derek and I first started talking about adopting Zola, the first thing I did was look up _lots _of hairstyling YouTube videos. You would've thought I was a beauty school student, not a surgical resident, had you looked at my Internet history back then." She hugs her daughter, indulging in the moment, never wanting to let her go. She loves her little girl so much.

Her two boys enter the room. Derek still has a cheesy grin on his face and his eyes are sparkling; her stomach turns and her grip on Zola loosens. She exhales hastily, knowing it's only a matter of time before she'll wipe that grin off Derek's face. For now, though, he deserves to enjoy a few more moments of glee. She decides not to tell him about the spotting. She'll wait until they're at the OB.

"This little guy is all bathed and clean smelling," Derek announces, a proud twinkle glitters in his eye when he notices Meredith is sitting on the bed alongside his daughter and his mother. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uh, I am," she feigns a smile for him, pretending as if absolutely nothing is wrong. _And maybe there isn't anything wrong_, she tells herself, though in her gut, she knows there's a greater chance that something is wrong than it's not. Also, in her gut, she knows it's probably for the best that something is wrong, because tonight Derek will go back to DC and his mother will go with him.

This bliss is destined to be short lived. Tomorrow morning she'll wake up to her two children and have the responsibility of getting them ready all by herself. She won't have have the four extra hands helping out. Maybe Amelia will be here, maybe she won't. Meredith can't predict her sister-in-law's whereabouts, and she'll never ask her to rearrange her schedule to accommodate hers. She has a life she needs to live, too.

Meredith kisses the top of Zola's forehead and slides off the bed. She kisses Bailey's cheek and says, "You both be good for Grandma, okay?"

"I always a good girl!" Zola giggles, giving her grandmother a hug. Carolyn laughs, her eyes glowing as she slides off the bed and takes Bailey from Derek's arms.

"You're sure about this?" Meredith still hesitates at the thought of using Derek's mother as their babysitter; it feels like they're taking advantage of her, and she doesn't want Carolyn to think that. Derek might be okay with taking advantage of his family members for babysitting services, but she is not. "I mean, I don't want you to think that you're here to be our babysitter. If you had other plans…"

"Meredith," Carolyn chuckles. "What other plans could I _possibly_ have? Touring the Space Needle? I came out here to spend some time with my grandbabies. If I want to tour the Space Needle, I'll take Zola and Bailey with me. I raised five children, and I have fourteen other grandchildren, so I know a thing or two about sightseeing with children." She winks in Derek's direction.

"Oh, well, in that case…" Meredith gives in, patting Bailey's back and giving him another kiss, this time on the forehead. "I love you, Bailey and Zola." She blows Zola another kiss.

Bailey babbles some foreign-sounding words, while Zola blows Meredith and Derek a kiss, "I love you, too! Nana, Bay, and I gonna have the bestest of time!" It melts Meredith's heart to see the delight on her little girl's face.

Derek takes Meredith hand and pulls her out the door.

* * *

><p>Derek rambles for the majority of the car ride, keeping his left hand firmly on the wheel and his right hand on her knee. He rambles about the silliest things, like how Bailey fell asleep standing up last night, and something about playing make-believe with Zola. He goes on and on about how creative Zola is becoming, and he says something about how she could grow up to be an actress, maybe break the medical field family cycle, which - according to him - isn't necessarily the worst idea.<p>

She just sits there beside him with a feigned smile on her face, nodding along as he rambles, trying to act like nothing is wrong, allowing him to hold onto his happiness for just a little longer.

Meredith finds herself wishing that she could have spent last night with the him and the kids, but at the same time, she knows there's no way she would be as awake as she is right now if he hadn't forced her to lie down, even though she had fought him almost to the brink of her death.

He parks in his reserved spot, the spot that still has his name painted on it _Reserved for Derek Shepherd_, even though he no longer works at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital. Even though he no longer is the Chief of Neurosurgery. Just like his office is still intact.

Even though Derek lives and works in DC now, pieces of his life remain here in Seattle. She remembers him purposely asking Owen to keep his office and his space, just in case, since his initial contract with the NIH is only three months - they call it his 'trial quarter'. He'd asked for that trial period when he negotiated the new contract with him, and then they would go from there.

He still has two months left in his trial quarter. That's eight weeks. If she isn't miscarrying right now - if she doesn't miscarry by then - she'll be nearing the end of her first trimester when his contract ends. And then what? What if they renew his contract? What if he wants to stay in DC? She knows he'll push to move back to Seattle because of the baby, but she doesn't want that. She doesn't want him to come back to Seattle just because she's knocked up with his baby. Then he'll go right back to resenting her and the kids, just like he did before he took the job.

Her head is spinning as he guides her into the hospital. Fortunately, he's holding onto her, because her thoughts are too muddled to focus on which direction her legs are moving. Her vision is a little blurry, and her temples are throbbing.

"You okay? You're not nauseous again, are you? Do we need to go to the bathroom?" he whispers faintly in her ear. She looks around, noticing that all the nurses in passing seem to be staring at them. It's the first time Derek Shepherd has graced his presence at Grey Sloan in almost a month. Of course they're staring.

"I'm fine," she whispers back, steadying herself as she grabs firmly onto his hand, leaning closer to him. She mutters, "We have an audience."

His eyes widen, scoping the room. It's like they're at the theater and _they _are the center stage. The spotlight is all on them. "We do."

She just hopes they can make it to OB without anyone they know running into them. Nurses will talk, sure, but it's just hospital gossip. Gossip spreads like a wildfire around this place, and anyone who's ever worked here knows that. But gossip is just gossip. Meredith learned a long time ago not to care what people are saying about her around the nurses' station.

Their moment alone in the elevator is far too brief, though; the door just starts to close when Maggie Pierce dives in between the door and the wall, joining Meredith and Derek for a very awkward ride. Her quirky smile quickly fades when she locks eyes with her elevator companions.

_Oh great, _Meredith thinks, feeling slightly humiliated, though in a weird way, she's glad that it's _just _Maggie.

Meredith breaks loose from Derek's secure grip around her waist, distancing herself from her husband by standing in a corner. She sighs, rolling her eyeballs in their sockets, landing her gaze on Maggie. Derek frowns, flashing her a stern _Be nice_ look.

"I, uh, I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer at the party," Maggie suddenly says in a stutter; she looks nervous.

"You were there?" Meredith asks, taken aback, and feeling even _more _humiliated, mortified by the fact that her sort of half-sister might have caught onto the fact she was locked in a _closet time-out_ with her husband. Or worse. What if she had heard her vomiting? The thought makes Meredith's insides turn. Meredith finds herself backing herself as far into the elevator corner as she can.

"Yeah, Amelia and - Carolyn, right? - said that you two accidentally locked yourselves in the closet upstairs looking for bubbles," Maggie answers. "I got a page, so I had to leave before the kids started breaking open the piñata. I know, bummer, because I _love _piñatas. I saw you guys coming down the stairs, though. You were running pretty fast…"

Meredith blushes. She glares at Derek, his eyes are wide and filled with curiosity. She wonders if Derek saw Maggie yesterday. If he had, he hadn't said anything about it.

"Uh, yeah. we both had to go to the bathroom. We were locked in there for at least forty minutes. Words of wisdom: Never drink a gallon of water and then accidentally lock yourself in a closet," Meredith forces a smile, glaring at her husband, who is smiling like a complete dork. He still has a happy post-sex twinkle in his eyes, and that makes her insides turn more than the awkward elevator encounter with Maggie Pierce. Luckily, she'd remembered to fill her coat pockets with mints before leaving the house. She's quick to pop one in her mouth, and without thinking, she offers one to Maggie. It's the sisterly thing to do, right?"

"Thanks," Maggie smiles graciously, taking the offered mint. "I always have mints before going into surgery. I don't know why, but the idea of having bad breath while operating terrifies me. Like the patient can smell my breath or something, even though they're under anesthesia. You never know."

"Uh...same." Meredith keeps on putting on a smile for Maggie.

"So...did Zola like the puzzle I got for her?" Maggie asks, unwrapping the mint.

Meredith swallows, noticing the bewilderment in Derek's face. It's clear that he has no idea what Maggie is saying. Meredith smiles weakly, "So _that's _where that came from."

"What puzzle?" Derek says at almost the exact same time.

"This morning...when your mother and I were doing Zola's hair, she was playing with a puzzle of the human body. I was trying to figure out where it'd come from, because I couldn't remember it being among any of her other gifts, and I hadn't gotten it for her. I'd thought maybe your mother found another gift when she was cleaning the house," Meredith explains to Derek.

"Oh," Derek mouths, still looking a little perplexed.

"I'm sorry I was late. My surgery ran later than expected, and then I didn't know how to get to your house…"

"The directions," Meredith nods glumly, genuinely feeling a little guilty about forgetting to leave directions to the house in Maggie's locker like she'd said she would. She isn't a person to break promises, even when she's not particularly fond of someone. While she doesn't really care what Maggie thinks about her, she doesn't want her sort of half-sister to think she's shady or a compulsive liar, especially when she'd gone out of her way to purchase Zola a present, considering she barely knew Zola and hadn't even known she existed until a few months ago. "I really didn't mean to forget them, I swear. I was overwhelmed yesterday and it slipped my mind…"

"It's no problem. Amelia's directions were great," Maggie assures with a small nod, just as the elevator door dings on the next floor, two floors below OB. Maggie starts to step out. Facing Meredith and Derek, she smiles shortly, "Anyway, I hope Zola likes her puzzle. I had one just like it when I was a kid, and it was my absolute favorite."

"She loves it," Meredith calls after her, but Maggie disappears in a blink of an eye, so Meredith isn't sure if she hears. She soon meets her husband's alluring smile, bewilderment still present in his eyes as he inches closer to her, placing his hand on her shoulder, but she jerks away.

"What was that?" Derek asks inquisitively; she's not sure if he's asking about Maggie or her pulling away from him. She can feel his eyes still studying her, looking like he wants to say something, but he says nothing.

* * *

><p>Derek's thoughts scurry all over the place as he and Meredith enter the OB waiting room He watches his wife tentatively, but she keeps her head turned from him. Oh, how he longs to be able to read her mind, know what's going on inside that brilliant yet complicated mind of hers. Though, at the same time, knowing how his wife can be sometimes, he's not sure he really wants inside her head.<p>

From the conversation in the elevator, Derek has gathered that Meredith had actually been the one to invite Maggie to Zola's birthday party. It doesn't make any sense to him. Apparently, things really _had _changed while he was in DC.

He doesn't have long with Meredith in the waiting room, since a nurse calls her name just moments after they've sat down. Meredith, wearing a dissimulated smile, rushes toward the nurse. Derek takes long, fast strides to keep up with his wife.

The nurse takes Meredith's weight, then leads them into an exam room.

"All right, Meredith. It looks like we're just taking a blood sample here -"

"We'd like to have a sonogram first," Derek blurts out impatiently, interrupting the nurse before she can finish her sentence. Meredith's eyes widen and Derek adds, "She's been experiencing severe morning sickness and nausea this morning and last night."

"Derek!" Meredith snarls.

A tender smile comes on the nurse's smile as she looks at through her file. "Let's see, you're how far along?"

"Around five and a half weeks," Meredith responds before the nurse can find the answer in her files, "and like I _told _him, morning sickness is normal."

"But it's not just in the morning," Derek adds. "It was last night, too."

"Morning sickness doesn't just happen in the morning, Derek," Meredith retorts, rolling her eyes, flashing her eyes toward the nurse. "Men. They're so literal all the time!"

The nurse laughs. "You're absolutely right. With my first pregnancy, I barely had any nausea at all. I was worried to death because I had barely any symptoms at all in the early months. With my second, I was nauseous almost all the time, at all times of the day. Of course I freaked about that, too," the nurse shares, quickly adding, "And now I have a beautiful little boy and girl."

"Was it worse with your boy or your girl?" Derek asks, genuinely curious even though he knows that gender prediction based on morning sickness is just a myth, at least according to Nancy and Addison.

Every pregnancy is different. _Every pregnancy is different_, he swallows, repeating that over and over in his head, kindling all hope he has for Meredith to have a healthy pregnancy, and in nine months they will have another bundle of joy.

"My girl," the nurse smiles. She turns to Meredith. "Now, let's…"

"Get an ultrasound," Derek finishes adamantly.

The nurse shakes her head. "Sir, your wife is only five and a half weeks along. We generally don't do ultrasounds this early in the pregnancy, because it's virtually impossible to pick up on fetal movement. That's why we like to wait until eight weeks, when your baby's heartbeat can for sure be picked up on an ultrasound."

"I'm well aware of that. And that's _Doctor _Shepherd to you. In case you didn't know, my wife and I are partial owners of this hospital. You can get us an ultrasound…"

"Derek!" Meredith hisses. "I have the sonogram image in my locker from yesterday. I can show it to you. There's no point in issuing _another _sonogram, when all it'll be is the exact same image we have in my locker."

Derek swallows. _If she's not miscarrying_. He hates that the thought has crossed his mind, but it has, and he knows she's been under ungodly amounts of stress over the past twenty-four hours, mostly because of him. He needs to see their baby for himself. He needs to know that he or she is still safe and secure inside his wife. Yesterday's sonogram can't give him that reassurance. Today's can.

"It's not the same," Derek protests. "Get us an ultrasound, or I'll make sure OB nurses are the first to be cut when we're reviewing which department to cut when we need to make room in the budget..."

He eyes Meredith, noting that she looks scared shitless. He doesn't blame her. Of course she's scared. He's scared, too.

* * *

><p>Her husband clearly has instilled fear in the nurse with his threats to cut OB nurses, which Meredith is pretty sure he would never actually successfully do, even if he suggested it. She can't believe his nerve sometimes.<p>

Earlier, she would have agreed with him, that he deserved to see their embryo on the monitor with his own eyes, but now she's not so sure. She's scared. Goosebumps creep up her spine. She recalls the light spots of blood she'd spotted in her panties this morning.

Meredith swallows a coiled, hard lump in her throat, dreading what an ultrasound could reveal, and she'd rather Derek not have to see that on the ultrasound monitor. It's better he find out from the blood test results than on a live ultrasound.

"I-I'll see if I can find a tech, since Dr. Ryan is currently delivering twins," the nurse offers, bolting out of the room with her clipboard in her arms.

Derek is glaring at her. Her heart is pounding fiercely against her chest. She can't think when he's looking at her like that. She's scared out of her mind, scared that she's miscarrying, scared that he'll have to see it first hand, scared of the cramps, the blood, the emotional and physical pain that will follow. All the pain that she remembers so vividly. All of the pain that she had gone through alone. Well, at least she'd had Cristina.

The nurse leaves the room, leaving her alone with her husband. Derek lets out a sigh, sitting down next to her on the exam table. He's been pacing the floor recklessly, and sitting in one of the exam room chairs doesn't seem to be good enough for him. Instead, he sits down next to her, crinkling the paper on the table.

He rests his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry if it sounded like I was threatening her. I just...I want to know everything, okay?" He lowers his hand to her abdomen, chills sweep up her spine and her stomach churns.

"I know, Derek. I know," she sighs. Sometimes _knowing _can be worse than not knowing, though. Because once you find out what's really going on, you may never recover. When you don't know, the future is still a blank slate full of a million possibilities. But once you know the truth, the future is set in stone. And you're forced to deal with it, whether you like it or not.

"So," Derek sighs. "Are you going to tell me why you invited Maggie to Zola's birthday?"

The question takes her by surprise, but she's more surprised that he hasn't asked before now, since he was clearly very perplexed in the elevator.

"I thought you would be happy that I invited her. You're the one who's always saying I need to be nice to my family, and whether I like it or not, Maggie is sort of my family now," Meredith points out the inevitable.

His eyes widen with surprise. "I am happy, Meredith. I like Maggie. She's nice, and I'm glad you're getting along with her. I just...wondered what made you change your mind about her?"

"Okay, it's not like we're sitting around a campfire singing _Kumbaya_ any time soon, Derek. It's not that deep," Meredith shrugs in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"I never said…"

"I just...I need all the spares I can get, especially with you in DC," Meredith confides, deciding to leave out the fact that it was his sister Lizzie's words that resonated with her.

"About that…" Derek mumbles just as the nurse returns with an ultrasound technician.

"All right, which one of you am I giving an ultrasound?" the tech smiles, clearly trying to be humorous.

The humor works on Derek, Meredith not so much. A wide smile cracks Derek's face. He smiles gleefully at Meredith as he stands up. Meredith groans in response, and she sighs without enthusiasm, "That would be me."

Derek is giddy and excited, much like Zola was yesterday when she was opening her presents. To him, this baby is a present. Meredith sees that so clearly, and it makes her heart ache so woefully. She wishes she could share Derek's excitement, but she can't. She can't because she's looking at this realistically.

Realistically, this baby has a steep uphill climb, even more of an uphill climb than Bailey had started out with. Her hCG levels were normal with Bailey, and on top of that, she was in a much better place, mentally and physically. She and Derek, despite everything that had happened with the plane crash and losing Mark and Lexie, were in a much better place, at least in their relationship.

The last few months have been a constant battle. She realizes that, and he has to, too.

Another baby won't change that.

And then there's the spotting. The spotting that Derek doesn't even know about.

As a doctor, Meredith knows that spotting doesn't automatically equate to a miscarriage. Spotting can happen for a number of reasons, including sex. She and Derek did have a lot of sex last night and this morning. Even without sex, though, spotting happens in normal, healthy pregnancies.

The fact is, Connie has already told her that her risk of miscarrying sooner rather than later is high, so she can't not suspect the spotting is the start of a miscarriage.

_Please don't ask about spotting, _Meredith thinks of the nurse, knowing that she may ask her questions. She'll have to tell Connie later, and she knows Derek will want to be there when the blood test results come back. And then he'll know, and he'll be upset that she didn't tell him.

She can't, though.

_Just a little longer. _

Her uterus is on the monitor, and sure enough, it's still there. The dark blob is still there. Meredith gulps, studying Derek. He's enthralled. His eyes light with a joyful charm. Derek is completely engrossed by the image on the screen, the image of their little baby.

"Well, here's your little miracle," the tech points to the blob that Meredith and Derek are both staring at. "It's still too soon to detect fetal movement, but everything looks normal at this stage."

Meredith breaths shake as she inhales and exhales. Derek grabs her hand, tears of joy twinkle in his eyes. Meredith stares blankly at the round blob on the screen. Has the baby shifted positions since yesterday? Yesterday it was on the right side of the screen; today it's closer to the center. She breathes deeply, a rush of emotions fill inside her. For a moment, she feels happy, happy that the baby is still inside her. But then she feels a pinch in her gut. She's still experienced spotting. What if it's just the beginning? What if it's only a matter of time...

Derek holds her hand, still staring in awe at the screen. The tech prints off the image and hands it to him. Now he can take the sonogram with him to DC. Hopefully, he won't show it to everyone he meets, though. Why would people in DC care if her uterus is occupied?

"All right, once you get dressed, we'll do the blood sample," the nurse tells her. Derek hands her pants to her, which she slides back on.

The tech leaves, and the nurse prepares to draw her blood.

"All right, besides the nausea we talked about, how have you been feeling otherwise? No cramping or heavy bleeding, right?"

Meredith glances at Derek, who's still giddy and in awe from the ultrasound. She shakes her head. "No. I've been a little dizzy, but no cramping and no heavy bleeding."

She's not lying.

"Dizziness is normal. Have you been experiencing heightened senses? Strange cravings?"

"I've barely been able to eat the last day," Meredith laughs, and she remembers the agony in her eyes caused by the mess of psychedelic rainbow decorations, and the nausea caused by the strong tomato scent from the pizza. "And I guess my senses have been a little heightened, yes."

She hasn't really craved anything at all, though. Not since she threw up last night. Maybe it's because she's afraid everything she eats will end up in the toilet, just like the pizza and pancakes.

"Sounds like normal pregnancy symptoms to me. And symptoms are better than no symptoms," the nurse tells her, smiling warmly as she pokes the needle into Meredith's vein.

Meredith swallows.

* * *

><p>Derek feels relieved, though he can tell from Meredith's tense facial expressions that she doesn't. Everything she's been experiencing is normal, just like the nurse told her. He finds himself smiling like a dork at the sonogram image. Their baby is just a little blob, but he or she is there. Right in front of his eyes. Thriving inside its mother's womb. Inside Meredith's womb.<p>

He feels all warm and gooey inside. Derek doesn't know how he can go back to DC now, but clearly she's planning on him going back. She keeps bringing it up. _When you go back to DC_, then she dodges the topic whenever he tries to tell her that he doesn't want to go back, or the ultrasound tech comes in and interrupts him before he gets the chance to tell her.

Truthfully, he doesn't know how to tell her, because he knows she'll think it's because of the baby. And it's not. He's not coming back _just _for the baby. He's coming back for her. He wants her and the kids. All of their present and future kids. He wants to see her grow swollen with his child again, be there to rub Meredith's back when it's sore, and to calm the baby down with his voice when he or she is kicking up a storm, like he had with Bailey. She shouldn't have to go through this alone, and she shouldn't have to raise their children on her own, either. They're his kids, too.

She doesn't get it, though. _She _is his everything. Not the President of the United States. He didn't even want the job in the first place, especially not after she said she didn't want to move to DC with him. She pushed him to take it, and here they are now.

They're expecting a third child, and somehow she expects him to pack up and go back to DC like it's no big deal

It's not that he doesn't love brain mapping. He does. It's fascinating, enthralling actually, and he remembers being miserable after he gave up the job the first time around. That was before he'd gotten to taste the job, and he was left wondering _what could have been_. He's been to DC now. He's tasted it. After one day on the job, he could see everything so clearly.

Working on the BRAIN Initiative is amazing. But it's not all it's cooked up to be. The project is still years from success. The program is in its infancy. Zola will be a teenager by the time they're seeing actual results, if they see them at all.

A teenager.

And then he'll have missed the best years of his kids' lives. He can't begin to fathom that.

The BRAIN Initiative is a huge international project, and he has the capacity to change the way the world thinks. He has the ability to cure not just one disease, but hundreds, if not thousands, of diseases. The focus is so broad, though, and he feels like that can hinder the success of the program.

He's only one person. They can do without him.

The nurse tells them that the blood test results should be back in a few hours, and Dr. Ryan will have them paged when they're in. Then they'll know more. They'll know if her hCG levels have increased.

He leaves with Meredith feeling optimistic. Their baby might be fine after all. All this worrying, it might be for nothing.

Meredith doesn't look optimistic, though. She looks scared as hell, and he doesn't blame her. Knowing she's scared, though, overrides his optimism. All of his worries come toppling back in full force.

He follows her into the lounge, where she changes into her scrubs.

"You should go home and play with the kids," she tells him firmly. "They miss you, and who knows when they'll see you again."

There she goes again.

"Meredith…" Derek stumbles for the right words to tell her that he doesn't want to go back to DC, that he wants to stay here in Seattle with her and the kids. "I…"

"I have to get to work. Go play with the kids," she says, barging out of the lounge, and he storms after her.

* * *

><p>Sofia has Mark's nose.<p>

The realization doesn't stop from pounding in Carolyn's head over and over and over as she watches Zola and Sofia build a tower of blocks on the carpeted floor of the hospital daycare.

Zola got bored of all her new toys after a few hours so Carolyn decided to take the kids to the hospital after Bailey's nap, also with the hope of running into Amelia and talking to her. That, and it gave one more reason to bond with Sofia, give her some good grandmothering. Mark might be gone, but pieces of him are part of Sofia, and she has seen it clearly the day before at the party, especially in the way Zola and Sofia got along.

She often wondered what would Derek and Mark's relationship be like if they were girls and a lot less physical and stubborn, and here she has the proof. Okay, Zola and Sofia are stubborn as much as their fathers, but they have a beautiful relationship already, a lifelong friendship, that Carolyn wants to nurture as much as she can.

"Nana, look at the tower!" Zola shrieks, turning around with a wide smile. The excitement from the party is still there, and Carolyn revels in it.

"Oh, you girls are doing an amazing job with it!"

"Should it be taller, Nana?" Sofia asks, and Carolyn is sure her heart stops for a moment. Or maybe it skips those two or three beats that make her breathless.

"Maybe you can make a tower as tall as you are, but you need to be careful," she replies, when she finally finds her voice again.

Some smiles Sofia gives her remind her of Mark, or the way she flicks her hair back with her hand; maybe even the way she studies the tower and the expression on her face are very much like Mark's.

Her heart is so full.

"Nana, you can go see Auntie Amy, we won't make a mess here." Zola grins, mischief in her eyes. She knows a thing or two about little girls, and she's sure these two have lots of secrets to share.

"Alright, be good girls, okay?"

"We'll be good, Nana," they reply in unison, Carolyn's smile widening.

"Oh and, Sofia," she bends a little next to the girls, looking at Sofia in the eyes, dark like Callie's, but sparkling like Mark's. "I will tell your mommies that they can call me anytime with Skype like Zola does, so we can see each other when I'm back in New York, okay?"

"Oh Nana, can we see you when we're playing together?" Zola begs, almost fluttering her eyelashes. This is definitely the trick that breaks Derek, she has seen Amy do it a million times to him when she was Zola's age, and he always ended up in a tiara playing dress-up.

"The three of us can have a playdate together, we can share some tea and some giggles."

The girls giggle indeed, as Carolyn kisses both of them on the top of their heads, then she leaves the room, thinking of all the possible places she might run into her daughter.

Her son owns a pretty big hospital, that's for sure.

* * *

><p>Meredith manages to escape from him and one more argument, scurrying in the direction of the ER, where the sounds of a siren call for her like a beacon. Derek wishes she didn't need the distraction, he wishes she could just relish the fact that they have just seen their baby, very small and very alive. It's the only thing he can see whenever he looks at her.<p>

He feels the pleasant weight of the sonogram picture in his pants' pocket, a weight he wouldn't trade for anything. But apparently, Meredith wants to work and ignore the issue. They're good at avoiding and postponing.

"What do we have?" Meredith asks the paramedics as they roll in the gurney, Derek hot on her heels.

"Thirty-seven year old male, head-on collision, he wasn't wearing a seatbelt. Crush injuries to the lower abdomen, chest and deep head lac," the paramedic explains, in her eyes the same disbelief whenever a patient comes in because he wasn't wearing a seatbelt.

"What do you think you're doing?" Derek exclaims, jogging next to her towards the trauma room.

"Saving a life?"

She rolls her eyes at him, and he has no idea what to think of it. He just knows that he can't let her out of his sight. He pulls a yellow gown over his clothes, some gloves, and then starts examining the patient's head.

"I need an Abdominal CT, STAT," Meredith says as she tries to patch up the guy's lacerated abdomen the best she can.

"Head CT too," he orders, then the door opens and Amelia enters the trauma room.

She stares him down for a long second, her eyes filled with questions, then she proceeds to push him aside and check the head wound herself.

"Amelia, I have it under control," he grumbles, taken aback by his little sister's force.

"_Derek_, I was paged." Her eyes are stony blue, her stance unwavering.

"Derek, you're not on duty, go spend time with the kids and your mom," Meredith adds, and some of the anger he was able to bury in the morning starts to resurface.

"I can't just sit there and wait for the results, alright? I need to do something." He knows he sounds desperate, because he feels a little desperate. He doesn't want to lose a minute with Meredith until he has to leave, he can't just let her go into surgery and miss hours of her. They need to talk about the baby and the results and how beautiful their little embryo is.

"Then go suture in the pit, this is my patient," Amelia orders, turning her back to him as they move the gurney again to get the scans.

He lets Meredith go, but grabs Amelia's wrist, stopping her from following the patient. She looks livid, as she jerks her hand out of his grasp.

"Are you out of your mind? Did all the sex kill your remaining neurons? I have to go see the scans," Amelia says, then she tries to escape from him .

"Amy, please, I need to be on this case." He resorts to begging, and calling her Amy, but she's still looking at him like he had grown two heads on each side of the one he already has.

"Derek, this is stupid, go play with the kids, I'd gladly do that myself instead of treating this guy. Half of his brain is on the table…"

"So go, go play with the kids." He knows she likes the fact that half of the guy's brain is on the table, as a neurosurgeon, the sight excites him too. He's not stealing the surgery because it's cool, he's trying to steal it because he needs to be there.

Amelia doesn't relent though, she makes a move to leave again, ignoring him, but he stops her once more. "Please, Amelia."

"Oh Jesus almighty, Derek! They want to play with you, not with me. They have seen me for the past month, unlike their father. _You_ need to go play with your kids!"

"Look, she's pregnant!" he hisses, trying not to attract the attention of any passer-bys. "I need to keep an eye on her."

"Wow, Bailey's pregnancy must have been hell for her," Amelia rolls her eyes, this time escaping from him and hurrying down the corridor. Derek's legs are longer though, and he catches up with her in a few strides.

"She might miscarry. Her uterus is unstable and her hCG levels are low and…"

"That doesn't mean you need to stalk her around the hospital on your day off," she snaps, quickening her steps.

"Look, Amelia, I don't care what you can do to me, leave. Leave now. This is my case."

Amelia looks stunned for a moment, taken aback by his words, and he feels bad. He feels so bad for pulling the big brother status on her, for raising his voice and being mean, but he needs to be close to Meredith. He needs to keep an eye on her, give her breaks when she needs them, quell the nausea with a mint when it looks like she's about to puke...Amelia doesn't know about the peppermint, she doesn't know Meredith's puke-face. He needs to be there. The need is more visceral than the need he had this morning to be buried inside of Meredith again. He needs to protect her with the same stubbornness he protects his children.

"Hunt is going to hear about this." Amelia slams the door of the stairwell in his face as she trudges away, fuming. Part of him feels bad for doing this, but his head is at peace, he can breathe easily.

He jogs up the stairs to the viewing room, meeting Meredith and the CT tech in there, already sitting down and starting with the scans. She looks genuinely surprised to see him close the sliding door.

"What are you doing here?" she frowns, barely glancing at him. "Where is Amelia?"

"She was paged," he lies, and Meredith sees right through him. She glares at him, eying the tech, and he knows he's not completely off the hook. Heck, he still feels like he's hanging with his feet dangling a foot above ground, but he can't help it. Now that they are in the same room the weight on his chest is not as heavy and oppressing as it was before.

He needs to see those blood results, hear Dr. Ryan tell them that her hCG has doubled, that their baby is going to be okay and grow safe and sound. The sonogram looks good, their baby looks so beautiful already, but it needs to be healthy too.

"His abdomen is a mess," Meredith whispers, requesting one more scan before they move to the head scans. And those don't look promising either.

"We need to get him into surgery immediately," he sighs, studying the extensive bleed. This guy is going to be very lucky if he even wakes up.

For once, Meredith agrees with him.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: And the roller coaster begins…. I don't have much else to say. Buckle up! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Irene's A/N: Happy Thursday, readers! We know that we're in the middle of a hiatus, so we're trying to fill in your Grey's fix for the week with this update! We know we left you guys hanging after the last couple of updates, but we have so many things to say...**

**Now, in this chapter we have a bit of a mystery character, are you going to guess who he is?**

* * *

><p><strong> Chapter 13<strong>

* * *

><p>While her OR is not often quiet like Derek's might be, Meredith relishes the quiet of the scrub room. It's her favorite place in the hospital when she's not in surgery, a place where she can think and focus and channel her knowledge. Plus, the nausea seems to disappear completely, and not remain there, lurking in the back of her throat. Well, it disappears until Derek enters right behind her.<p>

Gone is the focus and the peace she craves so badly. She can't drown her thoughts with the pouring water from the faucet any longer, they come back screaming.

"Look, Derek, I don't want to know what you did to kick Amelia out, but we need to work together to fix this guy."

Derek sighs loudly next to her as he opens the faucet next to her. "I accidentally told her you're pregnant."

Meredith drops the nail clipper in the sink with a dull sound, only the fact that she's scrubbing in keeping her from pinning him against the wall. How can he be so clueless?

"I'm sorry," he says, sighing. At least he has the decency to look ashamed and unable to meet her eyes.

"Derek, it's not about the fact that you told Amelia, she already knew, but that you told someone," she's ready to rant, fired up and loaded enough to snap him like a twig, if only he gave her room to continue.

"She knew?!" he yelps, his eyes filled with hurt as he finally meets her gaze. "You told her before me?"

Part of her feels bad he wasn't the first to know, but she didn't want him to know until she was further along in the first place, he should be glad he knows already and she didn't wait until next month to tell him. He was the first to know with Bailey, but she was able to do the special thing, have him all happy and gaga.

He didn't even know the first time. This time it feels so close to what she felt during her first miscarriage she couldn't even imagine getting far along enough to tell him. He should be grateful.

"Who else knows? Alex? Did you call Cristina already? It makes me feel so much better that people in Switzerland knew before I did!"

She throws the sponge in the sink, glaring at him. "Cristina doesn't know, and neither does Alex. Amelia saw my sonogram and your mother knows too because she overheard me and Amelia talking about it. Plus your mother has some kind of spidey sense for pregnancies, I bet she would know even without my confirm, especially with me vomiting all over the place." Derek opens his mouth to say something, but she shuts him up. "You were the first one I told."

He laughs bitterly, his turn to throw the sponge in the sink. "You were so delighted to tell me, right…"

Meredith takes a deep breath, trying not to kill him with the scalpel she's about to use on her patient, washing her arm and forearm, wishing it could wash away his bitterness too.

"You know why I didn't tell you right away, Derek, I explained that you. Unless you have the short term memory of a flea."

"At least you haven't told Cristina before me," he mutters, and it makes her blood boil.

"I can't believe you're jealous of Cristina, especially now that she's in Zurich. Not like you ever had to be jealous after we got married, but you never seemed to get that."

"I'm not jealous!"

"Oh, you are. You're jealous Amelia and I get along, you're jealous Alex and I can eat lunch together when you're in DC…"

"Of course I'm jealous of Alex! I would like to eat lunch with you every day!"

"You are in DC now, and I need to spend time with people over five years old, is that so wrong to accept?" Meredith shakes her head, sighing loudly. "And it's not like we ate lunch together when you were here, anyway."

That stuns them into silence for a moment, at least until she picks up the sponge once again to clean her other arm. He can't reply anything back, she hit him right in his gut.

"Derek, before I kill you with my bare hands, tell me you are not here to mommy-track me already, please." She stares him down, studying his expression, watching him squirm. She doesn't need his answer, she knows it even before he gives it to her. He's a dead man.

"I'm not. I just want to spend some time with you. I haven't seen you in a month."

"Save it," she shakes her head, pouring her frustration into the scrubbing of her wrist.

"Meredith, I saw you puke your entire stomach contents twice in less than twelve hours, I'm allowed to be concerned."

"That doesn't mean you have room to hover around me and push Amelia off her cases," she spats, but she softens at the sight of his eyes. She's still mad, of course she's beyond mad, but at least he has a point. It's a crazy point, but it makes sense in his head. She stopped trying to figure out what is going on in his head a while ago, for her sanity.

"Can we just...time this one out? I want to enjoy this time we have together, and our patient doesn't need us airing our dirty laundry in his OR," she relents, knowing that they're both going to be running in circles until someone gives in. She can give in, this time.

Both of them are tense, the expectations for the blood tests building their nervousness, though they are predicting two very different outcomes. It doesn't do them any good adding to that, nor is it good for the man they're about to cut into. That, and she already feels drained and she hasn't even had lunch, yet. She forgot how tiring the first trimester could be. Well, that, and she didn't have to chase around two children without a husband the last time she experienced a first trimester.

"Fine, time-out." He grumbles out his agreement, but he agrees nonetheless, and that for her feels like a milestone already.

She almost feels bad when she opens the OR door with her back and sees his sad face stare at her, watching her disappear in the sterile room while he's still finishing to scrub in.

Maybe she won't need to kill him with her scalpel just yet.

* * *

><p>"My brother is an ass," Amelia whispers in the dark of the on-call room, her breathing still a little erratic, her naked skin seeking the warmth of the solid, male body next to hers.<p>

The man chuckles, his lips finding the top of her head. "Why?"

"Because! I'm the Head of Neuro and he keeps stealing my patients. He comes back from DC all neurosurgeon extraordinaire and kicks me off my own cases," she rants, fire blazing in her eyes.

The man chuckles again. "So? Fight him."

Amelia shakes her head. "He looks pretty miserable, already. He was looking at Meredith almost as if she was half dead earlier, begging me to let him on the case because he 'had to keep an eye on her'. I mean, who says that?"

"Is there something wrong with Meredith?" he asks, frowning.

"No. Well, not really…" Amelia bites her lip. "I can't tell you anything…"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"Something like that," Amelia sighs, looking into the soulful eyes of the man, getting lost in the peaceful feeling he always brings her.

The man hums, his voice getting lost in her hair once again as they cuddle some more in the small bunk bed.

"Maybe he just misses working with Meredith now that he's in DC all the time…" the man says gently, his voice deep and yet barely audible if it weren't so close to Amelia's ear.

"Whose side are you on?" Amelia giggles, hitting his naked chest lightly, only to caress his skin afterwards.

"Nobody's. I'm neutral like Switzerland!" he tries to save himself, then he suddenly goes quiet.

"I'm supposed to annoy him and steal his toys, since I'm the little sister. He's not supposed to play with my head traumas just to keep an eye on his wife."

The man's spirits lift up again, because he smiles, Amelia can feel his chest relax under her palm. "So steal one of his surgeries…"

"He doesn't have any, he's supposed to be in DC!" Amelia sighs, flopping back down over his chest and trying to let him absorb a little of her anger.

She knows they are both damaged, she can see it in his eyes, or the way some things just make him snap or look faraway into the distance, and yet, these sexcapades they're having feel more and more healing for both of them. Sure, it's just sex, but such good sex can't be anything but healing, right?

And the sex keeps getting better and better and…

A pager shrieks in the room and Amelia knows it's hers. "No round two, I'm sorry," she lets out an annoyed breath, reveling in his chuckle as she reads the screen. "My _brother's_ trial patient blood results are in," she grumbles, irked that her brother is probably ruining another one of her cases.

"The Alzheimer's trial?"

"Why does everybody think that?" Amelia rolls her eyes as she search around for her clothes. "No, the Shepherd-Grey Method trial."

"Do you have to do his follow ups too, now?" he grins, and she'd gladly smack him if she wasn't too busy putting her scrubs back on.

"No, Beth Monroe came in the ER complaining of headaches, she asked for a Dr. Shepherd and guess what? I'm the wrong Shepherd…"

"Hey," he smiles, pulling her close for a second, "You're not wrong, you're a different Shepherd. I bet she likes you more than anyone would like Derek right now, if you say he's so moody."

He makes her laugh again, and she revels in the lightness he brings in her life. Their problems remain out of the door, or they are embedded in the clothes they quickly discard on the floor every time they are together. That's why it feels good.

"Still, Meredith looked like I killed her puppy when I told her the girl was having headaches again, so there must be a story behind…"

"Go pry some information out of her, then," he laughs, fretting with his own clothes before he smooths down the lapels of her labcoat.

Amelia kisses him one last time, reluctant to leave the safety and the quiet of the on-call room, but then her pager shrieks again, making the decision for her.

She reaches the lab and picks up the results, hiding in one of the viewing rooms in a remote ward of the hospital to read through them carefully. She also has Derek's personal notes with her, and the official documentation of the trial.

She recognizes both her brother's messy writing and Meredith's chicken scrawl, intertwined much like they are in life, Meredith's notes are all at the margins, asking questions, commenting his findings, asking for additional details. Derek's answers are curt and to the point, but there's a certain warmth behind them, especially after a while, maybe mid trial or so, and Amelia is curious to know more about that period of their lives. He did give the trial her name after all, they must have been together already.

When she gets to the new blood test results, Amelia's frown appears, and her face falls. She doesn't like them one bit.

She takes a deep breath, before she looks through them again, but they're still the same. She pages her resident to take Beth up for some scans, then proceeds to compare some of her findings with the old chart and the old notes, trying not to feed her gut feeling that Beth Monroe's tumor is back.

* * *

><p>Carolyn walks around the entire Neuro wing - twice - and still no trace of Amelia. She'd go to the CT and MRI rooms, but she doesn't have enough clearance. She settles for walking around aimlessly, maybe even going to the cafeteria, sure that at some point she'll find Amelia.<p>

"Dr. Shepherd is back!" she hears, yelped by a short, brown-haired nurse as she passes by the nurses' station. She feels compelled to slow down.

"He had a spring on his step, DC must be good for him." Her companion adds, flicking her long blonde hair away from her face as she types on the computer.

"Dr. Grey looked sick. Do you think she's sick? She definitely looks miserable without Shepherd here," Brown Hair says, making Carolyn frown. Can they mind their own business?

"Maybe he came back because she's sick!"

"I heard them argue in the scrub room, and Theresa took Dr. Grey's blood and she said she called Dr. Ryan in a hurry yesterday. Maybe she really is sick!"

"Oh, poor Dr. Grey. Do you think it's a tumor? Ovarian cancer is bad…"

"She can't be pregnant, Shepherd's been gone for a while…"

"Unless it's not his. I've seen her leave with Karev a few times."

"Girl, they had fertility problems, I bet they used IVF to conceive the little boy they have. Why would they have adopted otherwise?"

"Maybe his swimmers don't work..."

"What if it's his junk? The whole package?"

"Nah, it must be cancer. It worked fine before he left, Rose said so, plus you could always hear them in on-call rooms. Maybe DC neutered him..."

Carolyn's blood boils, and she'd set all those people straight if she wouldn't breach Meredith's confidences. These nurses! If they could hear them last night they wouldn't make such assumptions! She's still trying to erase Meredith screaming her son's name from her head. And they totally had a moment in the shower this morning, as much as it pains her to admit it. Luckily they had the decency to be a little quieter...But who's this Rose anyway? And why does she know about her son's junk?

Carolyn is relieved when she finally finds Amelia, frowning and engrossed in a pile of files and papers spread on half of the table of the lounge room. At least she can stop listening to all that nonsense about her son and her daughter-in-law.

She enters quietly, but Amelia doesn't even register her presence, not until she sits down on one of the chairs next to hers.

"Mom, you scared me!" she exclaims, straightening up a little to disguise the surprised jump she has done.

"Sorry, you were so focused on those charts I wasn't sure how I was going to approach you."

"What are you doing here?" Amelia frowns, and Carolyn is reminded of the days when Amelia was doing her homework in the kitchen, seeking some company and a warm baked treat, the same confusion appearing on her face when a problem seemed too big to be resolved.

"Zola wanted to play with Sofia, so I brought the kids to daycare. I'm leaving tonight, so I thought I'd stop by to say goodbye, in case you were going to stay at the hospital tonight too."

Amelia blushes, looking guilty. "You know, after we brought the girl here they needed me in the ER. One thing leads to another, -"

"And before you know it it's morning. I've raised five doctors, I know all about that." Carolyn smiles softly, sighing. "Was the little girl okay?"

"Yeah, just a bump in the head. She didn't even need stitches."

"Good, that's good," Carolyn hums, silence falling on the room afterwards.

Amelia fidgets with the papers in her hands, tracing some of the bolder, capital letters scribbled there, as Carolyn studies her, spotting all the differences since her medical school graduation.

Her hair is a bit longer, and she looks fuller, more woman, though not much older. The carefree look she had as a young child has been gone for a very long time, but some of its sparkle seems to be there, buried deep under the mass of paperwork and heartache she has suffered. She's proud to see her in scrubs, running a department, being in charge, after struggling through life for so long. She's proud, and yet it devastates her the fact that she wasn't there to support her through every step, to cheer every victory, and wipe all the tears. She will never forgive herself for missing out on a good chunk of Amelia's life just because she was too proud and narrow-minded to see the bigger picture before.

Now she can, and what she sees is beautiful. Amelia is everything she has imagined she could be, and more. Tears are already lurking in the back of her eyes, and she's not sure how long she can keep them at bay. She's not all that worried though that she could see her cry.

"Look, Mom," Amelia whispers, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you, okay?"

Carolyn smiles, nodding sadly. "I was sure you would be avoiding me after what I heard through the closet door."

Carolyn watches as Amelia fidgets, unable to meet her eyes, a slight blush on her cheeks.

"You had a baby." Carolyn states, cutting to the chase, knowing she wouldn't pry any information out of her unless she prods her for some.

"I did." Amelia's eyes darken and lose the sparkle as she stares at the oak table and her fingers.

"You could have told me." Carolyn is a little hurt she never even called, but it had to be expected, since they left on such awful terms.

Amelia laughs bitterly. "Why? To break your heart? Tell you one more time how I screwed up?" her eyes blaze as she asks the rhetorical questions, shaking her head, her whole body tense, ready to snap.

"No, because I thought you'd have questions, you were scared, and I could have helped."

"Mom, I was carrying a dying baby, there were no questions after I decided to donate his organs. It was just a matter of getting to the labor as soon as possible. And yet, I never wanted him to be born and die. It was pretty straightforward."

Carolyn takes a deep breath, feeling the stab in her chest at her daughter's words. "You had a boy?"

Amelia nods, looking a little taken aback by the question, and she understands it, but now the only thing Carolyn can picture is what Amelia's son might have looked like. "He had my nose."

Carolyn lets a tear slide down her cheek as she tries to imagine the little boy, and Amelia holding him, though she turns away from her daughter, unable to let her little girl see her so affected by that.

"Did-" Carolyn gulps, chocking back her tears. "Did you name him?"

"He was my unicorn baby." Amelia's eyes betray her, because Carolyn can see the tears shimmering there.

"You always did love unicorns."

Without Amelia's permission, Carolyn moves closer to her daughter and hugs her.

Amelia is stiff in surprise at first, but then she relaxes into her mother's arms. Carolyn closes her eyes, relishing the presence of her grown daughter into her arms, remembering the million times she has hugged her as a child when she cried or she was hurt or she was so happy she could burst. Her daughter was always a little more sensible than the rest of her children, and she deserved a hug or two more than the others. She missed having Amelia in her arms.

"Please, call next time something happens. I know what I said to you was unforgivable, but I'm your mother. I'm not perfect."

Amelia giggles through the tears she's trying not to cry, tightening her arms around her mother, squeezing her gently. "You did the best you could, Ma. I never really considered how hard it must have been for you, without Dad. Now I know, I've seen it, with Derek away and Meredith here. You did the best you could with what you had."

"Please forgive me."

Amelia doesn't answer anything, but she keeps hugging her mother. Carolyn knows she might never be forgiven fully for what she said to Amelia, but at least the bridge wasn't completely burned, she can still have some kind of relationship with her youngest daughter. It fills her heart with more joy. This trip, despite seeing the hurt her children had or are going through, was a blessing for her; it makes her feel proud and blessed. She's glad she decided to tag along Derek on a spur of the moment decision, and she's sure she'll be coming back to Seattle sooner than later.

"Okay," Carolyn giggles nervously, wiping away her tears as she tries to lighten up the conversation. "I need to find your brother, tell him the kids are here."

"Good luck with that, I've been trying to reach him for the past hour. He stole my surgery and now he's MIA. He always steals the cool ones."

"Well, you used to steal all his cool toys, he had to get back at you for that."

Amelia frowns, amused. "I did not steal his toys."

Carolyn laughs, shaking her head, and so does Amelia. It feels good to be sharing a laugh with her daughter.

"Should we go find him, make sure he's not killing Meredith? Were they still fighting last night?"

"Oh, they were okay last night." Carolyn laughs loudly, though Amelia frowns. "Are they always that loud? How can you even sleep in there? I bet the kids are sound sleepers."

"When they yell?" Amelia frowns again, "Oh, they're loud."

"No, not when they fight." Carolyn has a glint in her eyes Amelia completely misses.

"So when...Oh!" Amelia grimaces, halfway between amused and disgusted. "Meredith is definitely loud. And I have no idea how those kids can even sleep most nights. One of the many perks of Derek being in DC, I guess."

"He should be in the hospital with Meredith, they had an appointment with the OB." Carolyn freezes then, sharing a look with Amelia. They are both wondering about the same thing, and the happiness is suddenly gone.

It's Carolyn that quickly leads them out of the lounge room, barely giving time to Amelia to pick up her paperwork. Carolyn doesn't care if she leaves papers behind if something is wrong with Meredith and/or the baby.

They need to find them.

* * *

><p>She feels obliterated. It's not the first time she's lost a patient. She's lost hundreds of patients. Yet, her body is drained and she feels helpless. Derek's spiteful glare isn't helping her feel better, either.<p>

Meredith tosses the sponge in the sink.

"Look, Derek, you can blame me all you want, but…"

He seems taken aback. "Blame you? Meredith, I don't blame you. That guy was dead when he rolled in with half his brains on the gurney. Heck, he probably was dead before he was in the ambulance. The guy wasn't wearing a seat belt and it was a head-on collision. He was doomed the minute he chose not to wear a seat belt, Meredith. It's one of the reasons I didn't want Amy on the case."

Meredith scoffs as soon as he utters his last sentence, because she knows he's lying. She knows he can be over-protective of his little sister, but that's not the case here. He was Mommy-tracking her, and now he's trying to cover up his tracks. The fact that he's trying to deny it pisses her off more than the fact that he did it.

Instead of yelling at him, like she's dying to do, she storms out of the scrub room.

"Meredith, where are you going?!" he hollers after her, but she merely rolls her eyes and keeps going, stomping away from him. "Meredith!"

She runs into the lounge, and when she turns around, Derek is standing right behind her, his face seeking answers. He pushes past her before she can slam the door in his face and she scoffs. "You say you didn't want Amelia on the case to protect her, but you're lying. You were Mommy-tracking me, and now you're lying about it."

"I was _not _Mommy-tracking you!" Derek protests.

"Like _hell _you weren't. You sure as hell weren't trying to protect your sister, because she does just fine without your protection when you're not around. She's running the Neuro Department, after all. She doesn't need your protection, and I don't need you Mommy-tracking me. We do _just _fine when you're in DC."

"Just the other day you were complaining about how difficult it is with the kids…"

"I was not complaining." Meredith crosses her arms. She sighs and rehashes, "Derek, I know where you're going this, and no. No, you're not backing out of your contract and moving back to Seattle. You made a commitment to the president, and I won't let you break it."

Derek steps back toward the couch. He sits, puts his elbows on his knees and rests his head in his palms. "Meredith," he says in a calmer, collected voice. He raises his head, giving her a love-filled look. His voice fills with tenderness. "You're pregnant."

"And?" she asks blankly. "We already have two children, a third child doesn't change anything. You made a commitment, and you can't back down."

"So, I'm supposed to fly back to DC and act like you're not carrying my baby?" he asks, dumbfounded.

She exhales slowly. "Chances are that'll take care of itself in a few days, anyway."

He freezes.

"God, Meredith. You can be so dense sometimes. We don't even have the blood tests back, but that's not even the point here. I'm supposed to be fine with letting you go through a miscarriage on your own?"

She considers telling him about the spotting, but she holds back.

"I did it once. I'll be just fine, Derek. It's not that big of a deal," she shrugs, though she knows that's not true. She knows it is a big deal. Even though she tried to hide it, her first miscarriage had been emotionally draining. She'll never forget that pain: The heart-wrenching aches that lingered in every nerve-ending within her body.

He doesn't need to know that now. She just needs him to know that it's okay to go back to DC. She can take care of herself. He doesn't need to worry about her.

"How can you even say that? I swear to God, Meredith, I don't know you right now." Derek crosses his arms, firing a hot glare in her direction.

"I don't need you Mommy-tracking me and hovering over me. I can take care of myself," Meredith tells him, she sighs and watches as his eyes land on the manila envelope on the table. He leans forward and takes the envelope into his hands. Maybe it's a patient's file that another doctor accidentally left behind.

Before he can open the envelope, she feels a realm of nausea returning. Her stomach churns, her head spins. She grabs hold of her stomach, reaching into her pocket for a mint, but it's too late.

In moments, she's hugging the lounge toilet, and Derek is kneeling beside her, stroking her back.

"This is why I can't go," he mumbles as she regurgitates her stomach contents again; there's not much that comes up, since she hasn't eaten anything besides mints since breakfast. She's pretty sure she's emptied her entire stomach contents by now. There can't be anything else in her stomach that can come up. And she's afraid to put anything in there now, because she knows it'll just end up in the toilet.

She splashes lukewarm water on her face and sighs, placing a mint in her mouth as she looks at his reflection in the mirror. "Derek, I don't need you to rub my back every time I puke."

"I know you don't need me to. I want to," he replies earnestly, stroking her head, pushing her long strands of dark honey-colored hair behind her ear. "I'm partially responsible for this. Okay, half responsible."

"Derek, just don't...don't pity yourself," she rolls her eyes, jerking away from him, storming out of the bathroom.

"I'm not. Damn it, Meredith," Derek snaps, chasing after her.

* * *

><p>Why oh why does everything have to be such an uphill battle with her? Can't she just let him love her? Why does it have to be so difficult for her? He'll never fully understand her. He knows she still has Daddy issues. And Mommy issues. They've come so far, though. He thought that they were past all that, and now...now it feels like they're back to square one.<p>

Only Meredith is much more vicious and outspoken than she was when they first met. She says what's on her mind and she doesn't hold back. She's fearless. In a way, it's a turn on for him, but she also scares the shit out of him.

Admittedly, she looks hot when she's angry. His heart thuds vigorously in his chest. She's glaring at him like a tyrant, and she opens her mouth. "Derek, I -"

He'll never know what she was going to say though, since she stops when his pager goes off for like the fifteenth time. He's been avoiding it, since Meredith has been his number one priority.

"Aren't you going to answer that? Go be God? You don't even work here, and people _still_ page you!" Meredith shrieks, rolling her eyes, just as Derek hears the lounge door swing open.

"There you are!" a familiar voice gasps. Derek twirls around, spotting his mother and sister both glaring at him.

"Ma, what are you doing here? I thought you were at home with the kids." Derek is bemused.

"Zola got bored with her toys and wanted to play with Sofia. She and Bailey are both in daycare right now," Carolyn explains, pulling a set of car keys out of her pocket. "And I hope you don't mind, Meredith, but I drove your car here. Zola told me these were your keys hanging by the front door." His mother hands Meredith her keys back.

Meredith's face softens. "That's fine," she nods, smiling meekly at his mother, clinging onto the keys.

His mother eyes Amelia. Derek suspects there's more to his mother's story than Zola being bored with her toys and wanting to see her best friend, and it mostly likely involves Amelia.

"I've been trying to page you. Where have you been? Is everything okay?" Amelia asks, worriedly eying the manila envelope in his hand. "That's -"

Before he can answer Amelia, or ask her why she was paging him or if she knows what's in the envelope, Meredith's phone buzzes.

Meredith stares blankly at her phone.

"Results are in," Meredith respires blearily.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: *goes into hiding* I know that was mean - to go two chapters without telling you the results. Like Irene mentioned last chapter, we split this chapter and last because it was so massive. I promise you'll know what the results say and much more next chapter. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Irene's A/N: First of all, this chapter is long. Like really, really long. And it requires tissues nearby. Or something to squish tightly. You were warned.**

**Please, don't kill us, because you'll never find out what happens next if you do!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

* * *

><p>Meredith and Derek abandon his mother and sister. Derek's heart is racing anxiously as he takes long strides beside Meredith toward the OB floor; she avoids eye contact with him the entire way.<p>

Connie is already waiting for them when they make it to the OB floor, so he's grateful that the waiting is over. Now, it's time for the truth. Has her hCG increased? If it hasn't, then what? They need to have a plan. Either way, no matter what those results say, he needs to have a long conversation with Meredith after this appointment, talk through their options, make plans that represent what's best for them and their family. Maybe she'll be more reasonable once they know the results.

He tries to read Connie's facial expression, but it's neutral like a doctor's should be. It's one thing they teach you in med school: control your face. Though, it's much easier said than done. As doctors, you're supposed to sympathize with your patients, but not over-sympathize. Again, easier said than done, since some cases can hit so close to home.

In this case, he thinks it's good that he can't read Connie's facial expression. The results can't be too bad, right?

Then again, bad in his eyes and bad in Meredith's eyes might be two very different definitions of the word "bad" at this point.

"Hello, Derek. It's good to see you here," Connie greets, giving Derek a pleasant smile.

Derek smiles, greeting the OB-GYN. He nervously places his hand on Meredith's back, and this time she doesn't pull away. He can tell from Meredith's face that she's just as nervous about these results that he is.

"So?" Meredith doesn't hesitate cutting to the chase "Am I miscarrying?"

Derek's heart dips into his stomach.

"Well," Connie beings slowly while looking at her chart. "You haven't experienced any cramping or bleeding, have you?"

"She hasn't," Derek quickly answers for her, sharing a look with his wife. Surely, she would have told him if she was experiencing either. Her face is discolored though when he speaks. "You haven't, right, Meredith?" He folds his hand around hers and strokes the palm of her hand.

"Uh," Meredith swallows, releasing a dull, nervous sigh. She pulls her hand away from him. "I've had a little spotting." Her eyes dart away from him and she gazes at Connie.

Derek's body freezes. _When, _is the first word that pops into his head, trying to digest what his wife has just confided. He stares at her, but she refuses eye contact with him. Her lip curls under her front teeth, and he can tell she's nervous.

"You...what?" Derek demands, wanting answers. He tries to control his tone. He's shocked, a little stunned, but he doesn't want to show anger. Not now. Not in front of the OB. "When? Why didn't you tell me?"

Of course he's upset. She's been spotting and didn't think it was important to mention it to him. How long has she known? She'd left a few times during surgery to go to the bathroom, but he didn't think anything of it, remembering how frequently she peed when she was pregnant with Bailey. In fact, he'd been a little relieved that she had to go to the bathroom more than usual. It's a normal pregnancy symptom. More symptoms are better than no symptoms.

"This morning. After breakfast." Meredith slowly looks at him, her eyes shimmer with tears. "And I didn't tell you because you were so happy, and I didn't want to ruin your happiness." She frowns, her voice softens. "I...I missed your smile, and I wanted to hold onto it...let you hold onto the happiness...for just a longer, even though I knew it would be short lived. "

His heart is melting; he grabs her hand again, cupping his other hand on top of her knuckles. His gaze meets Connie's face, who doesn't even look concerned.

"Okay, now," she smiles weakly. "A little spotting doesn't necessarily mean miscarriage. You haven't experienced any heavy bleeding, right?"

Meredith shakes her head. "No. I haven't even had any spotting since this morning. I keep...going to the bathroom, expecting it, but no…" Meredith shakes her head, seeming almost disappointed. Derek loosens his grip on her hand. He can sense she's still wishing for it, and his frustrations climb again.

"Spotting can happen for various reasons," Connie confirms. "Did you have intercourse before noticing the spotting?"

He feels his cheeks warming.

Meredith nods, not looking the least bit embarrassed. He doesn't know why he's blushing, anyway. Connie is an OB-GYN, and they're married. Besides, he's sure over half of the hospital has heard them in on-call rooms. Meredith isn't the best at keeping quiet. He's still mortified by the fact that Zola heard them last night, which means so had his mother.

"We did, before breakfast, and a few hours before too," Meredith replies, matter-of-factly.

"And how long had it been?"

"Almost a month," Meredith responds, then laughs a little, like their absence of a sex life is amusing or something. "Three months before that."

"Ah," Connie nods. "Well, that certainly can explain a lot, then. Some bleeding is normal after long periods of abstinence."

"Can we just get to the test results?" Derek interrupts in a hurried voice. The anticipation of the results is slowly killing him.

"I was just getting there," Connie smiles then looks at Meredith. "Meredith, you're not miscarrying. Take a look at the results for yourself." She hands Meredith her iPad, and Derek immediately leans over his wife's shoulder to get a glimpse of the results. His eyes search for answers.

Her hCG is 2,240 mlU/mL.

Connie continues, "The numbers still are not as high as I'd like them to be, but it's a significant increase from yesterday. Generally, I'd like that number to be in the 7,000 range by five weeks. However, hCG levels can fluctuate for a number of reasons. The fact that they've increased is good. At this stage, the ultrasound is much more reliable than the blood tests, and the ultrasound looks good. I saw you had the tech run another one this morning."

Derek feels a weight lift off his chest, but Meredith doesn't seem so enthralled. She seems to be in a daze, blankly staring into the tablet screen.

"It looks like your due date is September 25th."

So far away, yet so close. Derek's contract will end long before then. He can be home. Derek can't imagine renewing the contract now, even if Meredith pushes him to. He hopes by then he'll be able to convince her that his family is and always will be his first choice.

They are his everything, even if he's crappy at showing it sometimes. Even if Meredith doesn't believe him.

* * *

><p>Connie's babbles go in one ear and out the other. Meredith's head is spinning, trying to make sense of it all. She speaks medical. It's not that Connie's words don't add up or make sense to her. It all adds up. She understands everything that's coming out of her doctor's mouth. Perhaps, she understands it all too well. Maybe that's the problem.<p>

"I'm not miscarrying," Meredith murmurs, almost in despair. She knows no normal woman in her right mind would be disappointed to hear that she's not miscarrying. No one wants a miscarriage. Heck, she doesn't _want _a miscarriage, but she certainly can't take on another child right now, and abortion is off the table, especially now that Derek knows about the baby. Her only options are to miscarry or to have the baby.

The fact that she feels so spiteful towards this child is a good indicator that it's not meant to be. It's not fair to their unborn child. All children deserve parents who can love and adore them. She doesn't doubt that she would fall in love with the baby as soon as he or she is born, and she knows that Derek is already in love with the baby. But that doesn't change the fact that Derek has his career and she has hers. They're busy surgeons with overwhelming lifestyles. They're struggling to make it work with two children. How can they even begin to fathom life with three children?

Derek is being an optimist. Or at least he's trying to act like everything will work out. She doesn't understand how he can actually believe that, though, or if he really does. He might just be trying to calm her down, when in fact he knows that another baby is only going to make their complicated lives even more complex. He can't actually think that expanding their family right now will help them, can he?

"You're not," Connie confirms.

"But the values are still low, so I could still," Meredith says slowly, trying to hide her frowned upon hope.

"You could," Connie nods hesitantly, evidence of worry on her face. "Your blood pressure is higher than I'd like it to be. You need to take it easy, Meredith. Eliminate as much stress from your life as you as you can. Still no heavy lifting, including Zola and Bailey. And…" She eyes Derek. "I think it's best if you abstain from intercourse for now."

Eliminate stress from her life? That's like telling her to stop breathing.

And Connie is suggesting she abstain from the only thing that completely releases the stress in her life. What's next? Taking away work and snuggling with her kids? How can she hug her kids if she can't pick them up?

* * *

><p><em>Damn, <em>Derek thinks, though he's not surprised. He saw that coming. Still, he had hoped Meredith would be calmer after talking to Connie, and he would be able to talk to her and perhaps squeeze in the second round they'd talked about this morning. He'd been looking forward to that, but now it looks like that's off the table.

He'll do anything to make sure their baby stays safe inside Meredith, even if it means abstinence.

"Well, that won't be a problem," Meredith shrugs, clearly not bothered by Connie telling them to abstain from intercourse. "He's leaving for DC in a couple hours, so it's not like we'd be having sex anyway."

He rolls his eyes. Of course she'll use anything and everything she can to justify why he needs to go back to DC. Okay, he's under contract. But it's not like he's not broken the contract before, and they took him back. He had already signed a year-long contract when Meredith told him she wouldn't move to DC. Then, he'd broken it off, and the president still came crying for him to come back. It's not like he can't break contract again.

His family is more important than the president.

"I also think you should avoid long periods on your feet. You can work, just no all-day surgeries, okay? And try to drink plenty of fluids and get plenty of rest," Connie adds. "Have you been eating?"

Meredith laughs, looking up at the ceiling. "I'm a doctor, too, Connie. I know how to take care of myself."

"Of course," Connie nods. She's looking at her iPad. "You've lost two pounds since yesterday, and the nurse this morning noted that you've been struggling to keep down food. Have you eaten today?"

Meredith scoffs. Derek knows he hasn't seen her eat anything besides mint since breakfast, and she'd thrown up her pancakes. He's been with her all day, so of course she hasn't eaten. But neither has he. She's eating for two now, though. Why hadn't he thought to make her eat? As surgeons, they're used to being in the OR for endless hours without eating. He hadn't thought about it.

He feels like kicking himself in the head as he studies his wife. She looks so frail and weak. His own stomach growls. They both need to get something to eat as soon as this appointment is over.

"Everything I eat comes up, and the thought of eating makes me nauseous," Meredith declares.

"Meredith, you have to eat," Connie grimaces. She adds, "Stress can make nausea worse. Have you been managing your stress like I told you to?" There's a knowing look on Connie's face, like she knows that she hasn't.

"I know. I'm taking care of myself just fine," Meredith says, then he swears she hears her mutter under breath something like, "I'm not incompetent."

Connie's stern expression is also loaded with worry.

"I'll make sure she eats," Derek assures the OB. "We'll go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat right after this. Right, Meredith?" He nudges her, but she doesn't look at him.

Dr. Ryan still looks worried, though. Meredith looks like she's ready to leave.

"We'll need to make an appointment for the eight week appointment, in about three weeks," Connie tells them. "They can do that for you…"

"At the front desk. I know," Meredith's voice is bitter. She storms out of the room, but before Derek can follow after her, Connie stops him.

"Derek, can I have a word with you?" she asks, solemness in her tone.

"I'll make sure she eats," Derek assures the OB. "She's stubborn, but I know she would never intentionally try to harm herself or the baby." Connie's face is still filled with worry.

"She doesn't want this baby, you know that, don't you?"

Derek feels like he's been stabbed in the gut.

"Wait, you don't think she would try to...purposely miscarry, do you?" Derek's voice shakes at the thought.

"I think the situation would be better if you weren't on the other side of the country," Connie confides. "It's none of my business, though, and you do what you have to do."

Derek grimaces. If only Connie knew how much he agrees with her, but Connie doesn't know how stubborn his wife actually can be. He doesn't know what to say, so he just sighs, confirming the only thing he can right now: "I'll make sure she gets something to eat."

He finds Meredith standing in the lobby. Her arms are crossed firmly together, and she looks so pale and famished. At least she waited for him. Truthfully, he's surprised that she's done that.

"Did you make an appointment for the eight-week ultrasound?" he asks, studying her.

She nods, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Yes."

"When?" he asks. Since she's married to him going back to DC, he adds, "So I can clear my schedule and make sure I'm there."

"Derek, you don't have to be there," she says. "I might not even…"

He's infuriated by the words she's about to say. _I might not even be pregnant still. _He cringes at her unfinished words. "Meredith, stop. Stop with the _I'm going to miscarry _Debbie Downer attitude. I can't take it anymore. You saw the same results that I did. The numbers have increased. That's a good thing."

"Is it?" she says dryly as they walk toward the elevator. "You're going back to DC, Derek."

"No," he says, determined to stay. "I'm not. I can't leave you here…"

"I'm a fully competent surgeon who knows how to take care of herself. If you're here, all you're going to do is hover over me like I'm inadequate, and I can't and won't deal with that. I won't. Derek-,"

He sighs loudly. "This has nothing to do with your competence as a surgeon. You're an excellent surgeon. I know that. Connie knows that. Did you ever think that maybe this isn't just about you?"

"This isn't just about me?" She rolls her eyes obnoxiously. "Of course it's just about me! You don't trust me. You don't think I can take care of myself. You think you're my father instead of my husband. I didn't have a father growing up, I certainly don't need one now."

She frantically pushes the elevator button over and over. He's completely forgotten that he promised Connie that he would get her something to eat. Now she has him mad.

"Can we just time-out?" he sighs, letting the tension in his muscles resolve, despite knowing they can't have the kind of time-out he would like to have per Connie's orders. He glances at the time on his iPhone. He only has a couple hours left with her, apparently. The last thing he wants is to spend those hours in vengeance. "We should grab something to eat. You need to eat, and I'm hungry, too."

"Maybe I'm not hungry," Meredith responds hastily. "Meredith, you should eat. Meredith, you should sleep. You're awfully bossy, you know that?"

"Meredith…" Derek sighs as the elevator door opens.

The atmosphere is tense when the elevator doors close, trapping their anger into their steel walls. Only, they never manage to close all the way, before a slender hand insinuates between the doors and Owen appears behind them.

He's a little breathless as he slips in the car, looking back and forth between Meredith and Derek, and Derek is puzzled by the frown he's sporting. Owen clears his throat, looking embarrassed. He opens his mouth once or twice, but no sounds come out.

Until he pops. "I think it would be appropriate to call a board meeting." Owen gulps, incredulous himself by the way it sounded and Derek keeps frowning, throwing him a sideways glance. "We need to rectify the fact that family members can't treat other family members."

Derek shares a confused look with Meredith, who looks equally puzzled. "What? Why?"

There's an awkward look between Owen and Meredith, a look Derek can't decipher. The staring continues as the two other occupants of the elevator seem to be trying to start up a conversation.

"He doesn't know?" Owen whispers loudly, to which Meredith's eyes boggle out.

What is Owen insinuating? What is she keeping from him again? First the spotting, now what? Is she dying too? Derek wants to bang his head on the steel walls. Was it all a scam? Has she already miscarried and it was all just make-believe for him to feel better? And what's with Owen's requests about people treating family members?

Before he can ask Owen himself, the elevator doors open again, revealing Amelia, a stack of manila envelopes in her hands and a relieved expression on her face.

"There you are!" she sighs loudly and holds out her hand to snatch him out of the elevator, but Derek is quicker and pushes Meredith out instead, leading her to a quieter corner of the hallway.

Before he can have his say, ask for more explanations, he's stopped by Amelia's body, trapping him in the corner of the hallway much like he has done with Meredith. His brain keeps swirling, and he has no idea what the heck is going on. He completely lost the train of thought of every person around him, and he has no idea how to read them anymore. Now he's with his shoulders against the wall next to Meredith, and Amelia is the one leading the interrogation in his place.

"Derek, we need to talk about Beth Monroe."

God, why is everybody talking in code and dragging up things without a specific context? Has DC made him slower instead of smarter? He needs a break from the onslaught of emotions. "What about her?" he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose, suddenly drained. Tiredness hits him all at once.

"I'm pretty sure her tumor is back."

When he looks up to meet Amelia's eyes, he feels like he's been punched in the gut. Beth was the very first good thing he and Meredith achieved together. Before the post-its and the kids and the house in the woods. She was the glimmer of hope for him, she pushed them together, she helped them find their way back to each other. If her tumor is back…

Their success can't be just temporary.

When he looks at Meredith he almost sees tears in her eyes. He can't swallow the lump that has formed in his throat.

"I was reading your notes to confirm that, and all the signs are there."

"My notes? My personal notes?" His sadness turns into anger, much like every uncontrollable emotion he has these days, and he can't stop from growling at his sister. _He can't stop_.

"I gave them to her, she was asking for them. They are my notes too," says Meredith next to him, sharing a look with Amelia. Something more is going on, but today he's not privy to anybody's secrets.

He snatches the papers from Amelia's hands, glancing at his handwriting, Meredith's handwriting, schemes and graphics, lines and letters, memories flooding back.

"Look, did you run some more tests? Then we can talk." He tries to control his tone, but he barely manages to be civil.

Amelia looks hurt. "Of course I ran some more tests, but I was wondering if you had anything to suggest..."

"No, I don't have anything right now." There's all the possible resentment in his voice, all the sadness and the puzzlement, and then he softens when he looks at Meredith. He needs to fight for Beth - for them - even if the fight is long gone from his system. "I'll look into my notes before I leave, I promise. I'll let you know."

"That's all I'm asking," Amelia replies in a hurt tone, before she turns on her heels and leaves.

Derek clutches the notes against his chest, looking at Meredith with resentment. He's ready to snap again, especially if she feigns innocence.

"Okay, what did Owen mean by what he said?" he growls, trying so hard to keep his anger at bay, but he fails.

"Derek, I swear I don't know." Meredith holds up her hands, only to fold them back in front of her stomach and stare at the floor after they share a look.

"Meredith, you kept the spotting from me, who knows what else you could be hiding! You knew about Beth already!"

"Why is that a problem for you?" Her submissive pose suddenly turns into one of attack as her eyes meet his, blazing with resentment at the sight of the hurt he's sure is clearly on display on his face. "You know what? Fine!" she raises her voice, escaping from his reach. "You can think whatever you want. But I swear I don't know."

She escapes from his reach, hurrying down the hallway. The space she left doesn't remain vacant for long, because pretty soon Owen is filling it, pestering him for the board meeting, a board meeting he still hasn't understood the sense of.

"Owen, I'm busy right now. Do whatever you want, I don't have time for a board meeting either way."

He leaves Owen there in his wake, deciding that he needs to let Meredith stew off a little. He needs to catch up with Amelia, though. He needs to know everything there is to know about Beth Monroe if he can't solve the issues he has with Meredith. He needs to fix Beth if there's something wrong with her.

He takes a deep, relieved breath when he spots Amelia in a viewing room, surrounded by x-rays and scans and papers. Maybe they can have a civil conversation, after all. Only, Meredith is there with her, and they're talking like the best of buddies they seem to be now. He's not sure he can remain civil with both of them there, getting on his nerves.

He runs a hand through his hair before he enters the room.

"So the virus was injected from two syringes," Amelia comments, pointing at the scans, her subdued excitement shining through, just like every time she's presented with a very complicated procedure.

"Yes. In almost total sync. Derek had one needle, I had the other."

Derek gulps, remembering the light on Meredith's face as the virus entered Beth's brain, the way fear and excitement blended in her gray eyes, the dim light of the OR casting a glow over her ethereal-looking body. He could see her as if it were yesterday that they operated on Beth and yet, there's a lifetime in between. Now everything might be crumbling.

"The tumor is located in a different position from the original one, though it's just as hard to reach." He butts out of his thoughts and into the conversation, the two women turning sharply towards him with hostile glares. Silence fills the viewing room.

"We can see that." Meredith's answer is curt, sharp like a razor, before she turns again to look at the scans.

"I think it might be malignant again," Amelia offers as an olive branch, her gaze moving back and forth from Meredith to the scans to him in a loop.

"Before we can even think about removing it we should see the growth rate. See if it's a benign one instead," he offers, putting on the table the very last glimmer of hope he has.

"Does she have any further symptoms, apart from the headaches? Any numbness in extremities like last time? Seizures?" It's Meredith who asks, though she still doesn't look at him.

"It doesn't look like it from the first physical exam, nor did she mention seizures," Amelia explains, reading through the chart for confirmation.

"I'll look through the notes in a little while, you should keep doing tests on her to understand how quickly the tumor is growing, then we can have a plan," he breathes out, trying to keep his composure.

"_I_ can have a plan," Amelia growls, but he lets it go. He's picking his fights right now, and Meredith is already draining him with her silent treatment. He can't fight with Amelia too right in this moment. "I'm taking her up for a contrast MRI, see if we missed something."

Before he can even say goodbye to his sister, she exits the room, leaving the two of them in the empty, dim-lit room, scans and papers everywhere. If Meredith weren't glaring at him, he would say it reminds him of the way he proposed to her, but there's none of the surprise of that day in her eyes. He might be able to see the love if he searches her eyes right, but she's still staring away from him. Yet, some of the scans are the same, one of the series he explicitly pointed out to her, as their best memories or their turning points.

Is everything they have achieved falling apart?

"It's back. The tumor is back." Meredith's murmur is barely audible through the hum of the hospital, but it pushes him closer to her without his consent. "I know we don't know, but it's back. I can feel it. I -"

Derek gulps. In different circumstances he would have hugged her, pulled her closer and tried to let the feeling pass. He can't do it right now, and it's killing him. He should have the right to hug her whenever he wants, but Meredith is no typical wife. He always has to reinvent the definition of wife with her. As exciting as it usually is, sometimes he would like to have a normal, ordinary marriage.

They are extraordinary together. Are they going to turn into ordinary people if he goes back to DC? He has no idea how he can be ordinary anymore, or how he can be extraordinary when Meredith is taken out of the equation of his life.

"Maybe the tumor ends up being easier to remove this time, malignant or not."

Meredith shakes her head, and he can almost see tears in her eyes. "How old is Beth now?"

Derek sighs, counting in his head. "Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two, I think."

"It's too damn early to die of a tumor."

Derek's blood freezes in his veins. She has given up before the fight even starts. "She might not die. We'll make sure she won't die, Meredith."

"People die way too early, it's life." He head shakes again, her eyes even more glassy as she looks at him for a beat. "Maybe it's a sign, Derek. And not a good one."

"Meredith, -"

Before he can continue to defend his opinion, their marriage or whatever is at stake after her words, Amelia comes back, munching on a Mars bar, making his guilt resurface. They still haven't eaten anything; he forgot again about taking care of her.

"MRI is backed up." Amelia announces a little annoyed, and Derek sees that an opening to give Meredith some time to slow down and eat something.

"We need to go to the cafeteria," he announces, only to see Meredith's eyes search his, a slight panic there.

It takes him a moment to process what is happening, before he spots her puke face. He has no idea what she can puke now, but apparently she needs to, because she's quick to bolt out of the viewing room.

* * *

><p>Derek chases after Meredith at lightning speed. She's quick on her feet, but he is one hundred percent determined to not let her get away from this. He follows as she makes a right turn toward the Attendings' lounge. He's not far behind when he sees her dash into the lounge.<p>

It seems like every time they fight, she ends up puking. Stress is definitely a factor, just like Connie had pointed out. Meredith is stubborn, though, and she's a force to be reckoned with at times. He feels bad for attributing to her stress, but at the same time, she brings a lot of it on herself, and there's nothing he can do about that.

He opens the door to the lounge and closes it behind him. The bathroom door is closed and locked. He leans his ear against the door, and he can hear her vomiting. The sound of her regurgitating her insides breaks his heart. There's no way he can just leave her like this, not in good conscience at least. He doesn't know how she expects him to just leave like this.

"Meredith," he says softly.

"Go away," he hears her growl. "Go back to DC where you belong. Nobody wants you here."

"Meredith - "

"I mean it, Derek!" she shouts at the top of her lungs, and then the door swings open, and Meredith stands right in front of him. She's holding her white coat in her hands; her face is damp from tears and likely from splashing water into her pores; and her eyes are bloodshot red. She's pale and her body has withered into a state of exhaustion. He wants to take her into his arms, but he knows that's not a good idea when she's in _this _kind of mood. Her seething glare tells him everything he needs to know right now, that he has no hope of bargaining with her. But that doesn't stop him from trying.

"I can't leave you like this, Meredith," he tells her, frowning into her eyes. She crosses her arms and shakes her head.

_Nobody wants you here, _his wife's words echo in his head, and he feels his rage boiling. Maybe she's right. He's unwanted. He's unneeded. Meredith doesn't want nor need him. Neither does Amelia. Amelia has Beth's case handled. She's a fully competent neurosurgeon. She's young, she has drive. Drive that he once had.

He can't drive for her anymore.

"You're not missing anything, trust me," she rolls her eyes. "And if you think you're helping, you are not. In fact, you're making things worse. I wasn't puking before you came home. You heard Dr. Ryan. Stress elevates nausea, and I seem to mainly get sick when we're fighting or when I'm with you. _You _are making me sick. _You _need to go back to DC."

His lips curve downward. "Meredith - "

"You're really not missing anything. A little blood? It's nothing I haven't dealt with before. It's really no big deal. I did it without you before, and I'll do just fine without you again. I shouldn't have told you I was pregnant. It was a stupid, boneheaded move on my part," she scoffs, turning away from him.

Derek scowls; he can feel his blood pressure rising. His blood boils. Sometimes, she can be _so _infuriating. He can't believe her. "So, we're back to this again, are we?" His voice rises. He glares at her, ready to snap. "You _can't _continue keeping secrets from me, Meredith!"

"The values are still well below the norm, and coupled with the stress I'm under on a daily basis, _especially _when you're around, there's little hope. You know what, Derek, if you _really _want this baby, your best bet is to go back to DC. You being here is stressing me out to my max. You being here is gonna cause me to miscarry."

"That's not true," he argues. "You keep keeping secrets from me, and that's what's stressing you out. You need to be honest with me, so we can go through this together. I'm your husband, Meredith."

"For the last freaking time, I am _not _keeping anything else from you."

"You kept the spotting from me. How am I supposed to believe that? Why did Owen say that I didn't know?"

Meredith rolls her eyes. "Do you really think I would confide in _Owen _before you? Do you really not trust me?"

"How can I! Not when you keep lying to me."

He feels drained. He's tired of fighting her.

"Derek, you really need to leave now. You've done nothing but cause trouble since you've been here," Meredith growls. His chest stings.

He swallows with disbelief. "You're kidding, right? What about this morning? We were fine this morning…"

"We weren't fine!" Meredith interjects, laughing satirically. "Just because your junk is spectacular and made me all warm and gooey inside this morning, does not make us fine!"

He freezes, completely taken aback by her comment about his junk. Though, he's resisting the urge to chuckle. He knows she's genuinely upset, though sometimes her vengeance comments can make their fights all-the-more hilarious.

Meredith continues her rant before he can respond, though. "We were having a time-out. You know what our time-outs are, Derek? They're band-aids. They're temporary fixes. We are not fixed. Nothing about us is fixed, and this baby? It's not a fix, either. Maybe you think it is, but I don't. Babies don't fix relationships. In fact, they do just the opposite. My mother knew that. That's why she never told Richard about Maggie."

He clenches his fists together; he can't believe the words he hears spilling from her mouth.

"Wow," he shakes his head shallowly. "You're becoming more and more like your mother every day." He words escape his lips without a second thought.

And she laughs again in satire, rolling her eyes. "I already know you think I'm a cold, horrible mother and wife. You've made that pretty darn clear many times. But hey? You told Zola that it's easier to go when you're mad, and you're mad right now, so you should go. Go, Derek!"

"It's not like I have a choice!" he hollers. "You've clearly made my decision for me."

And yet, she'd been so bent out of shape when he had made decisions for her without talking to her. _She's being such a hypocrite._

He can't do it anymore. He's done. Meredith gets what Meredith wants.

"Just go," she says lowly.

"All right. Fine. I will go. If that makes you happy, I will go," he snarls, sighing. "Do I at least get to say goodbye to the kids?"

She rolls her eyes. "What kind of question is that? I'm not keeping you from your children, Derek. If you want to say goodbye to them, then go say goodbye to them."

_Sure feels like she is, _Derek thinks, but bites his lip. Without another thought, he throws his car keys at her and bolts out of the lounge.

* * *

><p>The keys scrape her clavicle before falling into her hands. Her neck stings from the bronze contact, but she's not in too much pain. She knows that he did that so she can take his car home, because he and his mother will take a cab to the airport. He didn't throw them at her because he wanted to inflict physical harm on her. He's angry, but she knows he would never actually try to hurt her. At least not physically.<p>

She watches Derek vanish. Her entire body goes numb. She can't feel anything anymore, not even the tingling on her neck. She inhales slowly. He's gone. He's really gone.

Well, he's not gone _yet_. He'll say goodbye to the kids first. It's only fair that they get to say goodbye to their father, because who knows when they'll see him again. She can't take that away from him or the kids. She would never.

Her head is spinning out of control.

And had she really called his junk spectacular to his face? Oh, God. She's absolutely mortified.

The lightheaded dizzy spill takes over her body and she can't stand anymore. She leans against the lounge couch, trying to control her breathing. _In and out_, she inhales and exhales, her heart racing erratically. She falls onto the couch and before she knows it, tears are gushing out of her eyes. She can't breathe. She can't think. The tears just keep coming.

He's gone. _He's gone. _

And she pushed him away. It's what she does best, after all: Push away the people she cares most about.

Derek is right. She's becoming and more and more like her mother each day. The thought nauseates her.

She fights the urge to chase after him, to run to the daycare and catch him before he leaves to apologize. The thought of him on a plane angry at her, and her angry at him, is gut wrenching. In the event of a tragedy, she doesn't want their last words to each other to be angry words.

But she stays put. Maybe it's better this way. Like he told their daughter, it's easier being apart from each other when they're angry at each other.

That doesn't make her miss him any less, though. She already misses him, and he hasn't even gotten on that plane yet.

She wipes the damp, sticky tears from her face with her hand and bites her lips. Emptiness settles in. Her insides feel barren. Her hand hovers over her stomach, thinking of the small bundle of cells, a perfect mix of hers and Derek's DNA, inside her. How long will it be before they decide to leave? How long will it be before the miscarriage starts for real? Maybe her OB was right, and the spotting this morning was just a side effect of having intercourse after prolonged celibacy. Derek is gone now, though, so the next time she sees spotting, she'll know it's not that.

Meredith can feel the tense, heightened stress all throughout her body, and she knows the stress is going to cause a miscarriage. She can feel it. Not only does she know it, she _hopes _for it. And she hopes for it sooner rather than later. That way she can tell Derek it's over and he won't feel bad about going back to DC. It'll all be over. It'll all go away.

The emotions boil inside her, and she can't stop crying. The tears won't stop flowing. The last time she cried like this...it was the day Gary Clark pointed a gun to her husband's chest and pulled the trigger right in front of her eyes.

Her chest feels like a rock about to tear through her ribcage.

He hasn't been shot, though. He's not dying. She's not watching him code on the table while offering her life to a gunman. But why does the pain in her chest feel the same now as it did then?

She doesn't get an answer to her question, but she hears the lounge door swing open. _Derek_, is the first thought that crosses her mind and she turns her head, kindling onto a little bit of secret hope that it's him.

And then she meets his eyes, only they're not on his face. They're on Amelia's face. Amelia Shepherd stands before her. Her lower jaw opens when their eyes meet.

"Oh God, Meredith, are you...are you okay?" Amelia finally asks, genuine concern kindles in her voice.

Meredith wipes the tears from her cheeks with her hand, but she wishes Amelia hadn't asked if she were okay, because for some reason, the question calls for more tears to gush even harder and faster out of her eyes, faster and harder than she thought possible. By now, she must be crying harder than she did when Derek was shot. And he's not even dying!

She hates that she's crying in front of Amelia. After all, she doesn't cry in front of many people. Derek, Alex, and Cristina are among the few people she has allowed to see her cry. Really cry, that is. They're her people. They were her people. She still has Alex, though. Cristina and Derek are gone now.

Gone. _Gone. _

But Amelia doesn't flinch at her tears. She sits down next to her and wraps her arm around her back, then leans her ear against her shoulder. Amelia doesn't speak. Instead, she softly rubs her back as Meredith cries away all her tears.

And then Meredith feels a warm, wet teardrop that doesn't belong to her land on her shoulder. She tilts her head, meeting Amelia's crisp watery eyes. Meredith takes in a deep breath and wipes away her tears again, this time for good. Well, temporarily at least. She inhales deep, steady breaths, and her breathing returns to normal. She sits up straight, and Amelia takes her hand off Meredith's back. They share a moment of silence, just looking at each other.

"He's really gone," Meredith finally murmurs, releasing a sigh filled with elements of relief. The tension in her muscles releases.

"He and Mom were on the way to say goodbye to the kids," Amelia confides.

Meredith nods, picturing Derek and his mother meeting Zola and Bailey in daycare and giving them lots of hugs and kisses. She pictures Zola begging Derek not to go, much like she begged her mother not to go when she was a little girl. She pictures Bailey not understanding that Daddy is leaving, but he might start crying because his sister is crying. It's such a vivid, heartbreaking picture in her head.

"You know, if you want, I could take the kids somewhere...get them pizza or something. Give you some time to collect your thoughts and everything," offers Amelia, a weak yet hopeful smile forms on her sister-in-law's face. She adds, glumly, "Anything so I can procrastinate having to break the news to Beth about the tumor."

A dull ache reels in Meredith's gut when she hears Beth's name mentioned.

"Did you find anything new on the scans?" Meredith asks, dreading Amelia's response.

Amelia's expression is dreadful. Meredith knows the news can't be good. "There's already been growth since yesterday, Mer. At this rate...at this rate, I'd be surprised if she makes it two months." Meredith feels like Amelia has just told her that her puppy died.

"D-Does Derek know?" Meredith stammers, not sure why that's the first thing that comes to her mind. She's angry at Derek, but he should know. He deserves to know. Beth was his patient, too.

"I-I haven't told him. He was such a dick earlier," Amelia grumbles, breathing inward. "So. The kids. I'm going to take the kids out. I need some time with them just as much as you need some time to yourself."

"They'd like that," Meredith nods, an ill feeling still roaming in the pit of her stomach from the news about Beth.

"That is...if you give me a car key. I rode in with Callie last night, so I don't have a car. I saw Mom gave you your keys earlier, and you and Derek must have driven in earlier. So you have two cars in the parking lot, right?"

Meredith raises an eyebrow, gazing peculiarly at her sister-in-law.

"What? You do, right?" Amelia looks puzzled.

"Speaking of keys, are you ever going to tell me how you got a key to Derek's office? We're each other's secret keepers, right? And I covered for you with Derek, so you can tell me where you got the key in the first place." A smile breaks Meredith's lips for the first time in several hours.

Amelia is clearly at a loss for words as she bites her bottom lip. "Uh…"

"Seriously, I won't tell anyone," Meredith promises. Amelia stands up and makes a dash for the door, and Meredith follows after. "Hold on. I thought you wanted these?"

She pulls the key that Derek had just thrown at her out of her pocket, since her keys are in her purse in her locker. Meredith holds up the key, so Amelia can see it. Amelia shakes her head and darts down the hallway, clearly avoiding the question, and Meredith runs after her, quickly catching up to her. She's used to chasing after small children; she can keep up with Amelia without a problem.

"Why does it matter?" Amelia freezes just a few feet from the hospital daycare.

"Why are you running? What could you have done that is so secretive that you can't tell me? Is it illegal?" Meredith asks, now genuinely curious.

"No!" Amelia gasps; the color drains from her face. Her eyes are narrowed straight ahead, beyond Meredith. Her eyes glisten, and Meredith feels the pit of her stomach drop.

"Don't go, Daddy!" Meredith hears a small familiar whimper, confirming Meredith's suspicions. Her heart feels like it's about to explode when she turns around and sees her four-year-old daughter holding tightly onto her father's leg as he stands in the daycare doorway. Carolyn Shepherd is beside them.

"Daddy has to go." She watches as Derek kneels to their daughter's level, his eyes sad and dreary. "Daddy has to work." Zola's cumbersome brown eyes are filled with moisture.

"But you just gots here!" the little girl cries, crushing Meredith's heart, and then she looks up. "Mommy! Tell Daddy he can't go."

Meredith feels like her heart turns to stone when her husband looks eyes at her, his eyes ruthless and somber.

"Daddy's right, baby girl," Meredith chokes on the spit in her mouth. "He has to work. He has to go." Meredith nods, walking toward her daughter. She gently removes Zola from her father's leg. "He has to go."

And she wraps her arms snugly around Zola, shooting an enraged glance at her husband one last time. He sulks and whispers, "Goodbye, Zola," kissing her on the back of the head. He returns a futile glare in Meredith's direction, then he turns to his mother, motioning for her to go too.

And he does go, but Carolyn stays for a little longer.

"Goodbye, Meredith. It was nice seeing you again," Carolyn's smile is sincere, then she turns to her daughter and hugs her. "Keep in touch, okay?"

Amelia nods. "I'll try."

"And, Meredith," Carolyn turns toward her, capturing Meredith's attention. "If you need _anything_, do not hesitate to call me, all right? I'm just a plane ride away, even when Derek is in DC."

Meredith swallows a hard lump in her throat. "Thanks, but it's not your responsibility to fix us." She winks at her mother-in-law.

"It might not be, but that won't stop me from trying," Carolyn chuckles. "Oh Meredith, it'll work out. You just have to weather out the storm. Now, take care of my beautiful grandbabies. All three of them." She returns the wink.

"I'll do my best," Meredith sighs, regretting having wished for a miscarriage. Because it's not only Derek's heart she'll have to break if she loses the baby. It's Carolyn's now, too.

"That's all we mothers can do," Carolyn nods, looking at Amelia one final time before she follows after her son.

Meredith is left kneeling beside Amelia with a sobbing Zola in her arms. Meanwhile, Meredith fights her own tears. Seeing her own little girl cry the tears she's just cried over Derek leaving breaks her heart. She hugs Zola tightly.

"Oh Mommy, why does Daddy gots to go?" Zola sobs.

"He has to work, baby," Meredith soothes, choking back her own tears.

"But...but why can't he work here? With you? Like he useded to. He always useded to pick me and Bay up from daycare. Now we only seen him on the 'puter or iPad!" It's the question that sets one of Meredith's tears free. Zola takes notice to the tear streaming down Meredith's cheek; her little finger wipes away the liquid. "You miss already Daddy, too?"

"Very much," Meredith swallows, taking a deep breath. "Zola, why don't you go find your brother? Auntie Amy is going to take you for pizza." She eyes Amelia, who flashes at smile at Zola when she looks up.

"I eated pizza yesterday. Nana put lots of pizza in the 'fridge. We gots lots of pizza at home," Zola points out, and Meredith's chest sulks. That's right. Meredith had forgotten all about the oodles of extra pizza her husband had ordered for Zola's party last night. Somehow it had managed to escape her mind. Pizza was the last thing she wants to think about right now, though. The thought alone makes her stomach turn.

"Well, then why don't we go home, eat pizza leftovers and bake cookies?" Amelia offers, attempting to sound excited for Zola.

"Oooh, can we make chocolate chip cookies?" Zola asks eagerly, her tears starting to dissolve; but her tiny voice still rattles a little and she sniffles.

"Sure, why not?" Amelia smiles. "But first you have to find your brother. I'll be right in to get you both."

"Okay!" Zola springs to life and runs back into the daycare.

Meredith catches Amelia's gaze, wiping the dampness from Zola's cheeks with her thumb. She huffs a deep breath. "So," Meredith holds onto the key.

"Seriously, let it go," Amelia sighs, eying the key. "Secret keeping or not, there are some things I don't share with people. It's not like I'm asking how many times you and Derek had sex last night because there are some things _I _don't want to know about your life. Secret keeping doesn't mean we tell each other _everything_."

_She used to tell everything to Cristina. _Amelia is not Cristina. Of course Amelia doesn't want to hear about her and Derek's sexual endeavors, or their relationship woes, all of which she used to rant endlessly about to Cristina. But that's beside the point right now. What the hell is Amelia implying?

She's lost in thought when Amelia snatches the keys from her hand.

"Here's a little tip for you, Meredith: Sex opens doors." Amelia winks, walking inside the daycare, proudly holding onto Derek's car key.

"What does that even mean?" Meredith yells after her. "Are you sleeping with a janitor?" The heads of a numerous passing nurses turn toward her; Meredith scowls, rolling her eyes, wishing she could just lock herself in a supply closet and never be found.

According to Amelia, Meredith isn't going to be opening any doors for a long time…

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: I know this chapter was heartbreaking, and the ending may have triggered memories of how the Grey's left off with 11x8. That's because it was written the day after 11x8 aired. I know many of you were counting on Derek staying, but this is necessary. He has to go back to DC for reasons you'll understand later if you stick with us (which I hope you will), but if you don't, we'll understand too. Either way, please leave us your (constructive) thoughts in review. **


	15. Chapter 15

**Nicole's A/N: And we're back! We wanted to give you time to catch up after such a long, intense chapter last chapter, which we received mixed reviews about as was to be expected after such a chapter.**

**To the ****guest** **reviewer who was disappointed, I'm sorry that you felt that way. You're absolutely right. She's in an incredible amount of pain right now. Yes, Meredith wanted to hurt him, just like she did on the show. Personally, I've found Meredith to be very malicious towards Derek this season, and it's very believable that he would question her feelings for him. Honestly, as much as it pains me to admit it, I've found myself questioning her feelings for him a few times on the show this season. Although, I think _little. camp_**_**_ .f_airy**_ **hit it the nail on the head: You don't get that kind of pain without a lot of love behind it all. You can't have pain without love.**

**I'm also sorry that you didn't find the junk comment funny. Irene and I both died laughing, and many of our other readers enjoyed it too. Personally, it's one thing I can hear Meredith on the show actually saying, if she were to say anything we've written. It's that. Of course, you're allowed to disagree.**

**Don't underestimate Meredith. She might not want this baby at this time, and she and Derek both have a tendency to stab each other where it hurts the most when they're angry. Meredith Grey is such a complex character, and that's one reason I love writing her. **

**Anyhow, I'm sorry that I've written a mini novel here. If you would like to discuss this further with Irene or me, we would both gladly continue a friendly conversation via private message or on Twitter. Onto the chapter...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Flight 3178 to Washington DC is delayed <em>_until further notice_ _due to_ _a __winter __storm_ _ripping through the Midwest right now, causing unsafe flying conditions__. We apologize for the inconvenience_.

Derek groans. It's almost ten and he has heard the announcement at least four times. His mother has already drank a cup of coffee and eaten a bagel, while he keeps sitting in that chair, feeling sorry for himself.

He wants to go home.

Except Meredith doesn't want him there and he has nowhere to call home when she's not in it. She's his home, wherever she is. She's his home and she's his family, her and the kids and all the land he managed to turn into a magical place. DC is not home.

His brain starts to swirl to dangerous territory, so he opens his carry-on to bury himself in work for this indefinite wait he has to endure.

His eyes land on the stack of notes he practically stole from Amelia - his notes - , and he takes a deep breath. He forgot to give them back. He was so busy arguing with her and Meredith and trying not to cry when Zola clung to his leg that he forgot to give the notes back.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath, trying to recognize the man he has become, and failing. He's glad there are no mirrors in sight, or he would be close to throwing up.

He picks up the papers, reading the history of the trial, going back to nights much like the one he's living right now, consumed with longing for Meredith and utterly confused about the direction his life has taken. The parallel takes his breath away.

He didn't have three children with Meredith when he wrote the notes, nor they had a marriage certificate, a house, or a shared account for expenses. He had a lot of hope though, buried deep down; now he can't say he has any.

He traces the words Meredith has written at the margins, the traits sure, quick, filled with expectations, neat and haphazard all the same. He remembers reading the notes for the first time, the hope they gave him. He just feels empty now. He feels like crying.

He gulps down the lump in his throat as he straightens his back, then reaches for the piece of paper in his pocket. He unfolds it carefully, revealing the grainy, black-and-white blob that constitutes the only grain of hope he has left. Meredith said a baby won't fix them, but against all odds he hopes that this little creature will do just that. That's a lot of expectations from someone who barely has a heartbeat.

He traces the contours of the little black blob, imagining to be touching Meredith's stomach again as he closes his eyes, willing himself not to cry. He really wants to cry. He's homesick and he's still at the airport.

"Look at that," his mother whispers, her own finger touching the blob of black, while she rubs his back with her free hand. "Congratulations."

Derek smiles through the tears he doesn't want to cry, shaking his head as he takes a deep breath. "Thanks, Ma."

"Grandchild number nineteen."

"You don't know that," he shakes his head, knowing that all of his hopes resides in this baby, and it barely has a chance to survive. He's at the end of his rope.

"I know. I can feel it. This baby will be loved for so long, even if he or she won't make it out of the womb, Derek. It's my nineteenth grandchild."

"It doesn't feel the same, you know?" he swallows, looking intently at the blob once again. "I knew long after it was gone, but the first miscarriage...It doesn't feel the same."

"It's not supposed to. You didn't know…"

"No, it's not that. I wondered for a long time what it would have been like to have that baby, our lives most likely without Zola, or even Bailey, and I just...I couldn't picture raising a baby after getting shot. Now I can see everything so clearly, Mom."

"You don't get to lose hope. You can still have everything."

Derek shakes his head, feeling his heart clench. He can't have everything. He can't have Meredith, he can't be home, he can't have another baby; he can't have everything.

He can hear his mother talking, probably moving onto lighter topics, because she mentions Amelia and nurses and maybe the kids, but he's tuning her down. He needs to be in his head for a little while. He needs to wallow in the memories and trace the image of his baby and the faces of his kids on his lock screen and Meredith's handwriting, wishing he could touch her cheek instead.

"By the way, who's Rose?" Derek hears the question only because his mother touches his arm, and yet, it takes him a moment to process her words.

"Who?"

"Rose? The gossiping nurses mentioned her name."

Derek's hand falls on the stack of notes from Beth's case as he sighs, an unpleasant memory marring the happy ones he's trying to recover. "She's a scrub nurse, I think she's in Ortho now, but she used to work in my OR."

"How come she has seen your junk?"

Derek's eyes boggle out. "My what?"

His mother looks partly disgusted, partly amused to repeat that. Derek is just mortified. Now he'd gladly dig a hole and hide there forever. He didn't need the humiliation, he was depressed enough even without it.

He clears his throat, ripping off the band-aid. "We dated for a while, back when I did the glioma trial. Meredith and I had a rough patch, we broke up and I dated Rose. It was stupid; as of now, I have no idea what was going through my head at the time."

"You were sad, you were lonely. You coped."

Derek sighs, shaking his head. He doesn't want to dig up Rose, he can't remember one more time he was hurting Meredith instead of loving her.

"Look, Derek, you know I love you, but if you cheat on Meredith because you're lonely and sad in DC, I will never forgive you."

Derek gulps when he looks up and he sees his mother's stern face. Apparently Seattle switched off her filter as well. "I would never…"

"I know, but I'm just reminding you. If you ever feel like cheating on her, you'll remember my words."

"Meredith is the love of my life," he admits, feeling a smile tug up his lips, his heart warming up. "She's my family, my home, my better half. It's stupid trying to replace her. Rose was me, trying to replace her. It doesn't work. I know she's irreplaceable."

"Good. But Derek, when you were married to Addison, you cheated too. I'm allowed to be worried."

"I cheated on her with Meredith!" he exclaims, trying to contain his anger, but almost failing. "Addison was no Meredith. Not even close. She cheated on me first!"

"Again, I'm just reminding you."

His anger deflates at the soft look in his mother's eyes. He snapped at her too. He needs to find an anger management group when he gets back to DC.

"I won't cheat on Meredith. I don't know if she'll want us to be married forever, but I will never cheat on her." It's in his vows. It's what they promised each other in a locker room, it's forever not just in his mind, but on paper, on a blue post-it hanging above his bed, and that is the most important document he ever signed. He can't back away from that forever.

"You underestimate her love for you, dear. It's hard to see now, but it's there. I can see the love underneath everything you have going on, and I'm so happy you were able to find her, even if it took you so long, and so much heartache."

"My heart is still aching."

"It never stops, sweetheart."

Now he really feels like an ass.

* * *

><p>Her baby boy is in pain. He's in excruciating pain, and she feels partially responsible. Carolyn's heart is heavy while she watches her son sulk, observing his hands cling onto that sonogram image like he's holding onto dear life. That sonogram image seems to be the only remaining evidence of hope he has to hold onto right now.<p>

She wishes she could take him in her arms, cradle him like she did when he was a little boy. His pain is clearly much deeper than a scrape on the knee or an earache now, though. He's too big to fit on her lap or to lay on top of her in bed, like he did many nights when he was teething. If only they made medicine to fix broken hearts.

Carolyn doesn't know what was said between him and Meredith before they left, but she could tell from their murderous, painful last looks at each other that whatever was said had hurt them both so very much. She'd also spotted tears in both their eyes. Both have shown so much pain towards each other. They don't need to speak, their eyes say it all.

He needs to call Meredith, tell her he's still in Seattle. Carolyn has contemplated telling him that, but she's done enough damage already.

Clearly, her closet timeout wasn't a fix. She now sees that whatever is going on between her son and his wife goes much deeper than any timeout can fix. Maybe timeouts aren't magic after all.

In her head, she gruels through all the closet timeouts she's ever given. There have been hundreds. Maybe thousands. Has she really done her children and grandchildren any favors by locking them in a closet? Forcing them to confront their issues? Or, has she caused more problems in the long run?

It's her fault that Meredith and Derek missed almost all of their daughter's birthday party, and she feels like a crappy mother and grandmother because of it. Who locks their adult child in a closet so he'll miss his daughter's party? Carolyn clearly hadn't been thinking clearly then. She wasn't thinking clearly at all.

Whether Zola will ever remember her parents missing from her fourth birthday party is unknown. What Carolyn does know, though, is her son and his wife will remember it as the party they missed because she locked them in a closet. How pathetic was that?

If she hadn't locked them in that closet, then there's a chance Meredith wouldn't have told Derek about the baby. Would it have been better that way? She sees the pain written all over her son's face. What if Meredith actually does miscarry, like Carolyn so loudly heard her say she might? If her son is hurting this much now, she can't begin to imagine the pain he'll feel then. She can't even begin to fathom what it must feel like to lose a child.

Parents aren't supposed to outlive their children, not even the unborn ones. No parent should have to experience the loss of a child. Life is full of loss, but no one deserves to experience that kind of loss.

And poor Amelia. Carolyn's gut twists. She's gone through so much, and Carolyn has not been there to support her youngest daughter along her scary life path. Although, it seems like she's doing well now. It makes Carolyn happy to see her daughter thriving so strongly on her own, despite all the hardships she's been through. Amelia has seen more devastation in her lifetime than most people see in ten lives.

She is doing just fine without her mother in the picture. In fact, she's doing _better _without Carolyn Shepherd prying into her life. Maybe, just maybe, she is better off without her mother.

Maybe they all are.

* * *

><p>The sheets still smell like them.<p>

Meredith buries her head on Derek's pillow, holding it tightly against her chest, trying to go back to the morning, with the giggling kids and his warm body in their bed. Now there's just longing and bitterness and tears she has already cried that fill the room. Derek was lying, it doesn't get any easier being apart, mad or not.

She will never admit it out loud, but she already misses him. It doesn't feel right if he's not in bed next to her. Her stomach twists in knots as the awful things she said to him reverberate in her head, and make her feel dizzy. She didn't mean to push him away and yet, she did just that. It was the only way he'd go back to DC. She has no idea how she will be able to apologize for what she said, and she truly believe she doesn't deserve any forgiveness.

Before her mind can wander any further, she hears a desperate call coming from Bailey's room, his teary voice begging for her. She extricates herself from the sheets, putting on a zip-up hoodie Derek always wears when they're lounging at home, and then moves upstairs to tend to Bailey. She's tired to the bone, and she knows her resolution to be in bed by ten wouldn't last.

Bailey had a hard time going to sleep, just like Zola, but she couldn't blame them. She'd throw tantrums too if she had the chance. But she pushed Derek away, so she deserves to feel longing and sadness and emptiness, no matter how full she feels with the little life that is part of him still growing inside her.

She has no idea how she'll fill the void when that little life will not be there anymore.

"Dada," Bailey hiccups, desperately. He's the picture of how she feels. Her heart twists in her chest.

"Come here, sweet boy," she hums quietly, picking up her son from his crib, ignoring Connie's recommendations. It's not like she can do it any other way, since she's the only one at home except for a sleeping Zola. Amelia got paged earlier, another pile-up requiring her expertise, and she decided to stay there and monitor her patient from an on-call room instead of driving back and forth. Meredith can't blame her for doing that; she can do whatever she wants since she has nobody to answer to.

Bailey settles his weight on Meredith's shoulder, clutching at her hoodie, holding onto her for dear life. Yep, she feels just like her son.

She kisses Bailey's forehead, frowning as her little boy feels warmer than usual. She dismisses it, blaming the warmth of the covers or her heightened senses, gift of the little blob residing in her uterus.

She sways with Bailey for a while, the boy still desperate, still teary. He seems inconsolable. Maybe he really is running a fever.

She goes to the bathroom in the corridor, picks up the thermometer, then goes back to Bailey's room and sits on the rocking chair. She cradles her son for a few more minutes, seeing him calm down even further, munching on his fingers as he keeps crying, slow, silent tears streaming down his soft cheeks, his other hand holding onto his ear to add to the self-soothing.

When he looks calm enough, she puts the thermometer against his forehead and waits a few seconds for the read.

99/100°F. Low grade. Poor boy, all the excitement must have worn him out.

"It's going to be okay, Bails. Mama will make you feel better." She rolls him on his side as she cradles him against her breast like a newborn, memories of sleepless nights spent breastfeeding him resurfacing. The prospect of doing it all again is daunting.

"Mama," he whispers, in between hiccups.

"Does your tummy hurt too? Did you eat too much pizza and cake?" Meredith manages a smile as she talks to the boy and rubs his round belly. Bailey shakes his head, though she's not ruling out indigestion just yet. "Where does it hurt?"

"Dada," is his only reply as he grabs her hand and clutches it with his drooly fingers.

They rock and rock for so long Meredith loses track of time. Whenever Bailey seems ready to doze off once more, something bothers him and he starts crying again. She has no idea what is wrong with her little boy, except that he misses his father, and she can't do anything about it. She has done enough already.

She feels helpless and drained, without a clue on how she can console another little baby when she can barely understand the two she already has. The more Bailey cries, the more he breaks her already broken heart.

"What do you say, do you want to go and snuggle in the bed with Mama? I don't see you sleeping anytime soon anyway." She takes a deep breath as she stands up with the whimpering boy and shifts him to rest his cheek on her shoulder. He shrieks. "Shh, be quiet, you are going to wake up your sister."

Bailey just whimpers in response.

Meredith holds her breath as she picks up his sock monkey before they walk downstairs to her room, bypassing Zola's room. She can hear the girl's deep breaths as she keeps sleeping. That's a good sign.

When she's safely back in her bedroom, it feels so empty she would gladly cry with Bailey too. She lays the little boy where his father should be laying, staring for a moment at all the features that make them related, her eyes stinging, her vision blurry.

"How does it feel, being the man of the house?" she smiles at her son, but he barely grimaces, wriggling on his back, kicking and crying. She can't blame him.

"Alright, let's lay on top of Mama for a little while. This will surely make you feel better."

Meredith lays on her back, sliding a little up against the headboard, before she picks up Bailey and rests his head on top of her breast. He uncurls a little against her, looking so little, so new, so fragile. She can't handle that newborn delicacy one more time.

Bailey closes his eyes as they sync their breathing, fingers in his mouth, drool covering her t-shirt now that she has discarded Derek's hoodie, his other hand resting under his ear as he snuggles with his monkey. He lays on top of her and she simply runs her hand over his back, tracing his petite spine up to the edge of his diaper, feeling his weight against her. Her eyes close, but every time she attempts to doze off, Bailey's hiccups jerk her awake.

And then a sudden thought occurs to her: what if something is really wrong with him? His fever is low, but it can increase. Maybe she should take him to the hospital. But where would she put Zola? She can't just wake her up because she has a feeling her boy is on the brink of death. She needs to wait a little longer.

The biting of his fingers turns into thumb-sucking, and Bailey's loud suckling noises fill the otherwise quiet house with its desperation. A light goes off in her head as she feels the umpteenth stain of drool over her chest: maybe he's teething? The pediatrician told her he might be getting some molars soon, and it won't be an easy ride. Maybe that's what's going on tonight.

"Are you growing some teeth, Monkey Monster?" she asks, slowly opening up his mouth to insert her finger there. And as she expected, his gums feel like there are teeth underneath. "Poor thing," Meredith sighs, kissing his forehead, resettling him more firmly on her bosom.

"Mama," she hears, but this time not in Bailey's desperate tone.

"Zola?" she turns around, finding Zola and her stuffed lion standing at the threshold of her bedroom door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Bailey's loud," Zola says, annoyed and tired.

Meredith sighs loudly. "Come here, snuggle with me."

Zola frowns. "You gots no room."

Yes, she doesn't have any room, but she has to make it for her. If there's no room for Zola, how can another baby fit there, with them? _There's no room_. "We'll make room. Come here."

"Can I sleep on Daddy's side?"

Meredith feels a pang at the reminder that it will be empty for a while. But maybe not tonight. "You can."

Zola snuggles next to her, Meredith opening her arm to welcome her daughter there, Bailey still whimpering on top of her. Zola doesn't seem to mind the whimpers, because as soon as Meredith has her close, her breaths even out and she falls back into an exhausted sleep.

The kids make her keep going. They're her reason to get up in the morning, to have a smile on her face; they're the reason why she hasn't fallen apart, most likely. How come the idea of one more baby doesn't give her the same sense of calmness and simply fills her with utter fear?

When she looks at the clock it's already past midnight and Bailey hasn't stopped crying in the past three hours. He's going to dehydrate if he keeps this up. She needs to call in the cavalry. She picks up the phone and waits for it to ring, taking a deep breath as she hands Bailey his sippy cup with water. She should be off the plane at this point, after all...

"Carolyn?"

* * *

><p>Carolyn decides to stand up and leave the row of chairs where her son is slumped since they first announced the delay, staring at a sonogram and photos and old medical notes. She can't take it anymore. He's breaking her heart.<p>

She walks around the calm airport, most of the shops now closed, just a few bars still open, people attempting to sleep everywhere. At least they don't look as sad as Derek looks. She feels depressed just by looking at him!

Her iPhone buzzes in her pocket and the smiling face of her daughter-in-law appears on her screen. Immediately, she assumes the worst, because she doubts that Meredith would actually take her up on the offer she'd made before she left.

"Carolyn?"

"Meredith, hey, why are you calling so late?" _Why are you calling in the first place?_ Carolyn was sure she'd have to bribe Zola to hear Meredith's voice again, and instead her daughter in law just called her, out of the blue, at a quarter past midnight. Something is wrong.

"I'm sorry. The flight must have been grueling, I'm so sorry…"

"What is it?" Carolyn is sudden concerned by the shaky tone of her voice. She sends a little prayer that she's not calling for miscarriage advice. "We still haven't boarded the plane. There's a storm that delayed the departure."

"Derek's there?!" The panic in her voice clearly tells her that she was not expecting that.

"I'm taking a walk, don't worry, he's not here."

Meredith takes an audible breath. "Good, this goes no further than here." Before Carolyn can promise her silence, Meredith is already spilling her secrets. "Bailey is cutting his molars. He's miserable, crying on top of me and whimpering every time I try to shift him."

Carolyn's heart breaks at the image. "Poor boy. Does he have a fever?"

"A low-grade one," Meredith sighs. "He looks drained."

"I can imagine. Have you tried a damp washcloth for the fever? Maybe if he can't feel the fever he might be able to fall back to sleep."

"No, I still haven't tried that. Maybe if I freeze a teething ring like I did when he was little he might feel better?"

"It worked with Derek, and God knows how alike your boys are."

Meredith sighs shakily, and Carolyn regrets bringing up Derek. "They are. Though Derek always says Bailey is a mini-me."

"He's definitely both of you combined." Carolyn smiles, then decides to be bold. "I saw the sonogram picture, Derek showed me. Congratulations."

Meredith hums, her tone just as shaky as Bailey's whimpering Carolyn hears afterwards. They remain in silence for a bit, but it's strangely not awkward, just uncomfortable.

"So teething rings and a damp washcloth?" Meredith breaks the quiet, then.

"Yeah. They should work like a charm."

"Can...never mind." Carolyn can almost see Meredith shake her head.

"What is it, dear?"

"Can you call me before you leave? And then when you land?" she sounds embarrassed, vulnerable, even more vulnerable than when she was asking for help.

"Of course, don't worry."

"Even a text is okay, I just…"

"You need us to be safe. I get it. I'm a widow, but I remember what it was like to be a wife and a mother. I wish we had cellphones back then."

Meredith voice shakes a little when she thanks her.

* * *

><p>His iPhone's buzz interrupts his long trance of grueling, depressive thoughts. <em>Meredith<em>, her name comes to mind first, even though he's positive that it's not her before he even looks at the screen. He can hope, though. And he's right. It's not her.

It's Amelia's smile that lights up his phone screen.

He frowns, looking down at the notes that rest on his lap underneath the sonogram image that he's been so helplessly clinging to, searching for a little thing called hope. She is probably calling him to scold him for taking the notes, but in his defense, she'd asked him to look over Beth's case for her, and he hadn't had time to do that fully before his plane was originally scheduled to take off. How is he going to look over the case if he doesn't have the files with him?

"Amelia," Derek murmurs when he answers the phone.

"You stole my - _errr _- your notes!" his little sister's voice snaps through the phone.

"I knew that's why you were calling," Derek sighs, tracing Meredith's scrawny handwriting with the tip of his finger.

"Well, since you have them, _please _tell me you've had time to look over them and have something meaningful for me, because it's looking pretty glum here in Seattle. I mean, I know Seattle is gloomy place, with the neverending rain and persistent darkness. Maybe that's why I like it so much…I've always liked darkness. It's peaceful."

Derek barely hears her rambles. He doesn't take his eyes off his and Meredith's handwriting, tracing the words but not digesting the context of those words. The words seem meaningless. Everything feels so meaningless now. The heartache he feels is a constant throbbing sensation.

"Well?" His sister's voice is forceful, like she's waiting for him to give her all the answers. Unfortunately, he doesn't have all the answers. He doesn't have any answers.

"I'll fax the notes to you when I get to work," Derek sighs; there's nothing else he can tell her.

"Did you even look at them?" _Of course_ he'd looked at them. He wrote them, for God's sake. He and Meredith had.

Amelia sounds desperate, her voice mirrors the desperation she'd had when she called him about her friend in LA, the one that they'd operated on together and had prolonged her life for a little while. Amelia later told him that she'd died, despite their efforts. Derek had known it was a longshot to save her, anyway.

He and Meredith had done the same for Beth. They'd extended her life by a few years. Maybe this is it. Everything in life is so temporary, even life itself.

Isn't that a doctor's primary responsibility? To prolong death.

He tells Amelia that he has nothing to offer her, but she doesn't take that news lightly.

"Derek, I know you. You don't give up on a patient this easily, especially one that clearly means so much to you," Amelia tells him spitefully. "You're not a quitter. _My big brother _is not a quitter."

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do, Amy," he woefully replies. "Besides, I thought _you_ had a plan. You don't need me, remember?"

"The tumor's grown," Amelia blurts out, desperately, "and I'm at a loss for options. It's an inoperable tumor, Derek. She has _maybe _two months left. Unless we can help her. We've both operated on inoperable tumors before. If anyone can help her, it's us."

A pang strikes his chest.

"Unless _you _can help her," Derek corrects, imitating her own declaration to him before he left. "She's your patient now, Amelia, and you're every bit as talented of a surgeon as I am. You've reminded me relentlessly these past few months."

"Okay, that's not fair," Amelia's angered voice rips through his ear. "Just because you and Meredith are fighting…"

"Don't you _dare _bring Meredith into this," Derek quips, wishing he could strangle her. Oh no she didn't. It's a good thing she didn't say that to his face. "You know what, why don't you just go talk to Meredith about the case? She can tell you just as much as I can, probably more, considering she's there." And the trial was her idea in the first place. He doesn't need to tell Amelia that, though. Surely Meredith will tell her that herself, anyway.

"Derek! She's not a world-renowned neurosurgeon. And I can see why she didn't go into neurosurgery now. She didn't want to deal with you every day, all day, at home and at work. God, you're such a selfish prick! I don't know how anyone can be married to you. I can see why you and Addison didn't work out, and now you're doing the same exact thing to Meredith..."

His heart falls into his stomach. He does not want to confirm the truth that lies in Amelia's words. But Amelia doesn't know the whole story. Though, who knows what Meredith has told her...

"Amy, you have no clue. You don't know anything…you don't…"

He sees his mother walking toward him, her eyes twinkling with hope. At least one of them still has hope to hold onto. Most times, he doesn't know how his mother does it.

"_Flight 3178 to Washington DC will be boarding shortly. We're sorry for the delay," _a voice comes over the intercom.

"Look, I have to go. My plane is boarding," Derek says, lowering his voice.

"Wait, I thought your plane left hours ago…"

He ends the call before she can finish her thought, all while locking eyes with his mother. There's a realm of wonder in her eyes, as if she's trying to guess who he was talking to.

"Amelia," he volunteers the information, because he knows she's dying to know. "I accidentally took some of her files for a case she's working on."

"Ah," his mother nods, still standing. She adds, "I wasn't going to ask." He lifts an eyebrow. Before he can utter a response, she says, "Well, sounds like our plane is about to leave."

She's looking down at her phone, her thumbs tapping away like she's texting someone. Or maybe she's posting a Facebook status. It's past four in the morning on the East Coast, after all. Who could she be texting at this hour, anyway?

* * *

><p><strong>Irene's AN: Nicole said it all up above, really. I remind you that if you want to tell us what is not working in our story, you'd better leave a signed review. We like to confront our opinions and honestly, to the guest reviewer, I hope that after this chapter you decided to stick around. Thank you all for reading and supporting us! To be continued in the next chapter!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Nicole's A/N: TGIT! Happy last Thursday before Christmas. I hope you all are doing better than everyone in this story was last chapter. I wish I could tell you this chapter was brighter and cheerier, but that would be a lie. Personally, I delight in seeing Meredith and Derek miserable when they're apart. ;) (It wouldn't be good if they were happy apart, right?)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16<br>**

* * *

><p>When Meredith wakes up she is already nauseous.<p>

_Great._

She has Bailey's butt practically in her face, the faint smell of urine from his diaper permeating the air and it's not just her pregnant senses that say so. She doesn't need her new-found super senses to smell a dirty diaper with Bailey.

He's finally asleep, even though he's sprawled all over her, smelly and sweaty, but at least he's not crying anymore. She tries to breathe as little as possible, though she needs to shift him. He's getting heavier, and her lungs need to expand.

His eyes snap open when she tries to move him, though it takes him a minute to study his surroundings and then let out a sad cry. It could have been worse.

It is going to be a long day.

She looks at her alarm clock and she counts a total of three hours and twelve minutes of sleep. Bailey can probably add up to four. She stretches to pick up her phone but Bailey whines as she moves and she can't reach it. She needs to know that Derek and Carolyn are okay and not splattered somewhere in the Midwest in the wreckage of a plane. Derek has to be okay, in DC, but okay.

The bed shifts as Zola moves her leg, still sprawled freely on Derek's side of the mattress. At a glance, the bed seems just as full as it was the previous morning, but the hole left by Derek makes it look so much emptier than how it truly is. Her bed can't remain empty forever, she needs to check her phone.

Meredith turns Bailey around so that it's the top of his head she's smelling and not his diaper, and her son clings to her shirt, closing his eyes again. She puts her lips on his forehead as she smooths down his wild curls, ignoring the sweat while using an utterly inaccurate method to measure his fever. She's _that_ kind of mother now, and she doesn't care.

Bailey still feels warm, and not sleepy warm.

She stretches to pick up the thermometer and as her lips predicted, Bailey still has a fever, and it's even a grade or so higher than the previous evening.

Bailey whines and whimpers and clings to her, rubbing his snot and drool on her shirt, clutching her like a lifeline with one hand, pulling at his ear with the other.

She can't stretch to pick up her phone, but the three hours of sleep give her a little clarity: he has an ear infection.

She's ready to burst into tears too. Though first she needs to get both kids ready for the day, she needs to take Bailey to Alex for a check-up and go to work. She can cry tonight, when her bed is empty and the kids are okay, she doesn't have time to cry now.

She lets Bailey hang onto her like a koala bear as she goes back to his room and picks up some comfortable clothes for him to change into, then she takes him to the bathroom and sticks him in the tub, trying to wash away some of the sweat and the sickness from his skin, careful to avoid his ear. He looks a little better as soon as he's dressed again, though he won't stop clinging to her.

When she goes back to her room, Zola is still peacefully asleep, and she wishes she could let her sleep just a little longer. Her clothes are ready to be worn, her breakfast is somewhat ready in the kitchen and so is her backpack for daycare, Zola has to be up.

"No," is the first thing that Zola says to her, turning her head around. Meredith can't blame her.

Meredith lets it go for a moment, as she picks out some clothes for herself too, trying to change at lightning speed. Yet, Bailey still manages to scream at the top of his lungs as soon as she sits him on the bed.

"Shut up!" Zola screams, practically kicking Bailey, then hiding under the comforter to drown Bailey's cries.

"Zola, stop kicking your brother." Meredith knows it's futile to ask, but she feels like she should. She's still a little in shock her daughter can be so bitter, but after all the screaming she and Derek have done lately, she can't really blame Zola for picking up on that. She's a lousy parent. She will never be able to raise these kids right, no matter how hard she tries. She will ruin two lives, maybe even three.

"He should stop scweaming first," Zola rebutts from under the comforter, surprising Meredith even more.

"Look at me," Meredith asks, her voice soft, defeated. She's failing. She's a failure. She uncovers Zola slowly, rubbing her back as Bailey keeps wailing. Zola turns her face towards Meredith, and there's all the hurt in the world in her eyes. "Your baby brother is sick, Zola." She can try explaining, but she's still a crap parent. "He's crying because he feels yucky, now we're going to see Uncle Alex so he can give him some medicine, that way he'll feel better again."

"Mommy, he makes my ears bleed."

Meredith cracks a sad smile. "Your ears are just fine. A little sore, but fine." She kisses Zola's ears for good measure, and Zola seems to relax a little. She can't give her anything but love now, and maybe it's enough. Her mother never kissed her, that's for sure; at least she's not as crappy at parenting as her mother was. "Get dressed now, we need to go to the hospital."

Zola sluggishly slides out of bed as Meredith tries to console her little boy, taking a deep breath. Love doesn't cure ear infections.

This is so not their morning.

She gives Bailey his bottle downstairs in the kitchen, and he slurps avidly the warm milk without leaving her arms, her back screaming at her that it's not a good idea to hold him for so long, but her mind unable to let him down to cry. She can't do much, but she can hold him. It needs to be enough for him, at least for him she can be a decent parent.

She sits and picks at her saltines, figuring they might be the safest breakfast option, though she's not so sure they will agree with her either. It's not like she's hungry, her guilt fills her stomach more than any saltines could. She screamed at Derek before he took a plane, and knowing their track record, his plane probably crashed and he died hating her. How can she raise these two beautiful human beings alone when she's such a bad parent?

With her free hand she finally looks at her phone and sighs in relief. At least something is going right. Derek is safe in DC, and so is Carolyn on her way to New York. They arrived without a hitch, despite the long delay and some turbulence. They are okay. At least she doesn't have to raise these kids alone for good. Even if they're not talking, Derek can still Skype the kids as long as he's alive.

Carolyn's texts are brief but just enough to make Meredith's day just a little less grim. She texts her back, telling her that Bailey still has a fever, promising to keep her updated, thanking her again for the advices.

Zola shows up in the kitchen when she puts down her phone. She's dressed in casual clothes and her shoes are not on her feet. Meredith sighs.

"Mommy, where's my pancakes?"

Meredith wants to cry again.

"No pancakes today, it's late. You like cereal, Zo."

"No, I want pancakes. Daddy always makes pancakes. Nana maked pancakes. Auntie Amy makes pancakes too."

"Mommy can't cook pancakes, Lovebug." Meredith feels her heart shatter.

"Where's Daddy? He makes pancakes so good..."

"Daddy is at work in DC, remember? You said goodbye to him yesterday." You clung to him like the world was ending, you have to remember. Meredith can't forget that.

"I want my Daddy." Zola's eyes fill with tears as she folds her arms on her chest.

"I know." Oh she knows how much she's missing her Daddy, because she's missing him just as much.

"Daddy is the best, Mama. He's so much cooler than you."

Meredith gulps, feeling the stab in her chest. She knows she sucks at this, but actually hearing it with such innocence breaks her heart. She can't cry now. She can't. "Please, I know I'm not Daddy and you miss him and my breakfasts are not the best breakfasts ever but please, eat your cereal then put your shoes on."

"No."

Zola is firm in her position for ten minutes, and Meredith is able to bargain a power bar instead of cereal, but shoes are still a no. In fact, by the time she has gone back upstairs to pick up a hat for Bailey to cover his ears, all the small-sized shoes that were ready by the door are gone, and Zola has a smug smirk on her lips. A sneaky smirk, though, because she still manages to look as innocent as the day she has first laid eyes on her.

"Zola, your shoes on. Right now." She tries to look stern, not the frazzled mess she already is, but Zola can see behind her façade. She has a lousy poker face too, apparently.

"I dunno where they are."

"You do."

"Uh uh," Zola shakes her head, looking genuinely at a loss. "They went away like Daddy."

The lump in Meredith's throat grows to the point she almost feels like choking. This is not the time to break down. Not the time at all.

"Fine." Her voice shakes as she puts Bailey down and goes upstairs to the kids' closet.

She can hear her son screaming at the top of his lungs and Zola screaming back at him but she's on a mission. A tear or two fall from her eyes as she's rummaging in Zola's side of the closet, but they disappear before they can reach her cheeks. She finds a pair of pink and white gym shoes with straps that look a little worn down but still okay. She doesn't care that Zola is dressed in green today, nor that they might not be her favorite shoes, it's not like she's winning any parenting points today. She does what she has to do.

By the time she starts her car and exits the garage she has to deal with two wailing kids in the backseat, though they both have shoes on.

If she has to do this alone, at least she'll do it the way she wants to. She'll damage the kids either way.

* * *

><p><em>Derek feels dead. <em>

No, not even close. He's felt death before, and it was sure a hell of a lot more tranquil than what he's feeling now. Death was serene, calm, peaceful. He does not feel any of those feelings now. Death is an amazing feeling.

Derek feels like someone is gouging his eyes out, they burn and his vision is blurry from the absence of sleep and from staring helplessly at his notes throughout the entire plane ride. He feels hostile, irritable, and sluggish. His leg muscles are cramped from sitting in a tight plane for five hours, eight hours if you count the time change. Jet lag is not in his favor today.

Nope. He's very much alive.

People who say they feel dead clearly have no idea what death feels like. As morbid as it sounds, he would gladly trade the feeling of death for how he feels now.

He can barely walk coherently, he's so exhausted, so he gladly takes the moving floor when he and his mother approach the Metro. The very same moving floor that he normally mocks people for taking. He understands its purpose perfectly now, and he wonders why there aren't more moving floors in America. That way, they would never have to move their legs.

Wow, and people wonder why the rest of the world say Americans are lazy. Imagine what they'd say if every floor in America moved like this one.

It's nine o'clock and he has a meeting at eleven. He should have grabbed a cab straight from the airport, but then he wouldn't get to see his mother off. It's the least he can do. He needs to be on good terms at least with one person in his family, since everyone else hates him. And he knows his mother is the only person in the world who will never stop loving him.

Besides, the meeting is at the Capitol Visitor Center, which is on the East Front of the US Capitol. From Union Station, the Capitol is in plain view, and it's only about a fifteen minute walk. On an average nice day, he would walk from Union Station to his meeting, but today it's ten degrees below zero and he's functioning on virtually no sleep. He won't be walking anywhere he doesn't have to today.

He trudges beside his mother onto the yellow line, headed toward Fort Totten. It's still rush hour in DC, yet another downfall of his delayed flight. Of course the train is jam packed and there isn't a spot to sit, so he and his mother hold onto the poles for dear life.

What perks him up, even if just a little, are a baby's sharp cries. Others on the train show signs of disgust or annoyance, but Derek's heart warms as he becomes fascinated with a little girl sitting on her mother's lap right below the DC Metro Map. She can't be more than six months old. Memories of Bailey at that age come flooding back. The baby girl has beautiful locks of curls, just like Bailey does now, only her hair is bright red just like her mother's. Her mother's hair is straight, though, so Derek wonders if the little girl has inherited her daddy's curls too.

Derek keeps smiling at the baby, and he's grabbed the baby's attention because her bright blue eyes also fixate on him. She stops crying, much to her mother's and everyone else's relief.

"Little one, you don't know how easy you have it," he talks to the baby like he would talk to his own son. "You have your mommy, after all, right? Mommies are everything you need." Derek smiles at the baby; the mother now looks at him too. He steals a quick glance at his own mother, who is smiling gently back at him. She pats his shoulder with one hand, while holding onto the pole with her other.

"Do you have children?" the baby's mother asks. Derek's heart breaks at the question, as he thinks of Zola and Bailey.

"Two," he nods in response, then adds without a glimmer of hesitation, "and a third on the way."

The words escape his lips so naturally, and he doesn't regret saying them. After all, he'll most likely never see this woman ever again.

"_It's not that you told someone," _Meredith's words echo in his head. She doesn't want anyone to know, and he gets why, but he can't not tell people. It's all he can think about. It's not like anyone in DC knows her, anyway, so why should she care if he tells total strangers? He needs to tell _someone_, after all.

They'd kept Bailey's pregnancy between them for the entire first trimester. Practically half of his family already knows about this baby already, and Bailey's pregnancy hadn't presented with the complications this pregnancy has right off the back. On top of it all, he was in Seattle full-time then.

His mother and sister knowing might be a good thing. It's good to have support. At the same time, he knows it'll be that much harder if things don't end well. He understands why Meredith is reluctant to get attached to the pregnancy. She was reluctant to get attached to Bailey, too. She wouldn't even look at the monitor at the eight-week ultrasound, whereas he remembers being so enthralled with excitement.

When he loves, he falls hard and fast. Meredith, on the other hand, is hesitant to love.

His eyes don't leave the baby's, whose face is now lit with delight. She giggles, and Derek imagines what life would be like with a baby girl. Zola was a little older than this little girl is now when they met her. She was almost a year old when the adoption was finalized.

Of course, he wouldn't mind another little boy, too. Having been raised in a house of all girls, he had dreamt about what it would be like to have a brother. Mark had somewhat given him that answer. Though, Mark wasn't his biological brother, he spent more time at his house than at his own. He thinks of Bailey having a little brother to play with and to get in trouble with like he and Mark had when they were young boys. Derek wonders if they, too, will fight over women when they grow up. What if Bailey sleeps with his brother's wife, or vice versa?

The thought makes him feel ill yet, at the same time, humors him.

Then he thinks about life with another daughter. He pictures Bailey being the protective big brother, much like he was for Amelia. Though, Bailey and his little sister would be much closer in age than he was to Amelia. What if she grows up to have a crush on his best friend? When she was little, Amelia always had a crush on Mark. He was seven years older than her, though, so it was more cute and laughable than anything else. Mark, of course, was flattered and, if anything, she just helped build his ego.

But Bailey and the baby will only be a little more than two years apart.

The thought makes him shudder. After all, the idea of _Zola _dating terrifies him. Now, he's thinking of his imaginary daughter dating, and the thought is even more gut-wrenching. After all, Zola will be off to college by the time this baby is in high school. He'll have already been through the teenaged years in their entirety once. Maybe it won't be as terrifying, then.

The possibilities really seem endless. He can see every possibility so clearly now.

Luckily, his mother is paying attention to the signs outside, because his mind is a million miles away.

"Gallery Place. That's where we want off, right, Derek?" his mother nudges him, and he comes back to reality.

"Right," he nods. He smiles once more at the baby, and waves an indefinite goodbye to her and her mother.

They shift trains to the red line heading toward Glenmont. This train is just as full as the other one, but there aren't any cute babies to distract him. Instead, reality comes crashing down on him.

Painful thoughts of Meredith alone with the kids back in Seattle come rushing back to him. She's not supposed to be lifting them. Hopefully Amelia is at the house to help her get them ready. He was so angry at her earlier that he'd forgotten to ask her to keep an eye on Meredith for him. He knows he was bitter toward her, but she pushed him away, too.

_Nobody wants you here. _

The words stab him in the heart all over again. He's unwanted. Unneeded. He feels so useless, so powerless.

But here he is in DC. _They _want him. In fact, they wanted him so badly that the president sent his assistant across the country for him. They begged him to come.

At least he's somewhere where he's wanted. Maybe this is where he's supposed to be.

But why does it feel so wrong, then? If he's supposed to be here, it shouldn't feel this wrong.

The train stops in front of the sign that reads _Union Station. _Here he is. Right back where he and his mother started two mornings ago.

All he ate was a granola bar at the Seattle-Tacoma Airport while he and his mother had waited for their plane. Then he'd had some pretzels and water on the plane. He hadn't eaten lunch yesterday, so his mother's pancake breakfast was the last actual meal that he had consumed.

Yet, he's still not hungry.

He needs coffee, or he's bound to crash before his meeting even begins. The lack of sleep coupled with the time zone change is not working to his benefit, that's for sure. It never does.

It's like the peace and tranquility he felt yesterday morning never existed. Like it was all a dream. Now, his exhausted state mirrors how he'd felt two mornings ago. Only he's pretty sure he feels worse now than he did then.

Two mornings ago, he was on his way home for his daughter's birthday. He had a night's worth of fighting with Meredith weighing him down. Yet, he still held onto the excitement of seeing his kids for the first time in practically a month. He still had that hope to hold onto. Two mornings ago, he hadn't known his wife was pregnant, though.

And now he wishes she'd never told him, like she'd articulated she wished too.

Maybe he wouldn't feel like such a crap father and husband, then. She may have pushed him away, but he let her.

What was he supposed to do, though?

He could have fought harder.

His head looms in circles as he sips his coffee. He jumps from one thought to the next, unable to keep them all straight, and the coffee isn't helping.

He purchases a banana, since his mother is insistent that he needs to eat, and she's probably right.

"You've barely slept or eaten, dear," his mother sounds worried, and he understands why she is. In fact, she has every right to be worried. He's a father now. He knows what it's like to worry about your children, especially when you don't see them often.

What if he never sees their baby again? What if he or she is gone by the time Derek returns to Seattle? What if the only memories he'll have of him or her are the ones he has of rubbing Meredith's still-flat, bare belly, and her telling him he should wait? The memories are short and all-too brief.

"_It's too soon."_

He can't take it anymore. He feels like he's about to burst.

He's a mess. A corny, pathetic mess.

And now he's staring at his peeled banana, gazing aimlessly at the soft, white squishy insides. He traces his finger over the lingering skin, peeling that off too. His mother eyes are on him, studying his every move.

"Derek," his mother says softly. "It'll all work out."

Derek shakes his head. "You don't know that, Mom. So, please, please don't say that." His exhales, his breaths shaking.

She extends an arm, resting her firm hand on the crook of his elbow. "Derek, you love your family. I can see it in your eyes. And it's a good that you feel like this."

He raises his eyebrows, sneering, "It's good to feel like an unworthy piece of crap? Since when?"

"No," his mother replies steadily. "It's good to feel heartbroken. It shows that you still have something to lose."

"It feels like I've already lost it all," Derek mumbles, finally taking a small bite of his banana. Derek's stomach growls at the introduction of food. His blood boils, and as the rage gruels through his body, he takes larger bites of his banana. In moments, he's eaten the entire piece of fruit. Now he's awoken his metabolism and he wants more. Too bad he doesn't have time for more. With any luck, there will be some type of snack at the meeting.

"Derek, you haven't," Carolyn shakes her head knowingly. "You really do underestimate her love for you."

Derek grimaces, having a hard time believing a word his mother is saying. Sure, she knows things. But she can't know everything. Nobody knows everything, not even his mother.

He glances at the clock. He has to leave now if he's going to make it to his meeting on time, and his mother has a train to catch. His mother's face tells that she knows it's time to say goodbye, too.

They part with a goodbye hug.

"Uh, let me know when you arrive at Grand Central," he tells his mother, looking into her crisp, melancholic brown eyes. "So I know you're safe."

She smiles weakly. "Of course, dear. And you call me more often, okay? I'll have to pop down more often. Maybe we can spend a Sunday or two together. Perhaps I'll bring one or two of your nieces and nephews."

Derek groans. "If they even remember me."

"Lily, Leah, Maddie, and the twins only know you from pictures, but Natty Bug and Hannah Banana ask about you all the time. If I tell them you're here in DC, I'm sure they'll beg for me to take them to you," his mother giggles. "You were always their favorite uncle."

Derek grins slightly at his mother's joke.

"I knew that'd get a smile out of you," she winks, hugging him one last time. "Take care, Derek."

"You too, Mom. We'll keep in touch." He waves her goodbye, and he actually means it when he says they'll keep in touch.

"Oh and, Derek?" she says before he's too far away.

"Yes, Ma?" he turns back.

"When you're ready, call your wife," she winks, hopping on the train before he can utter a response.

_Call your wife. _

What if his wife doesn't want him to call, though?

He doesn't have time to think about that right now. It's crunch time.

* * *

><p>Meredith makes it to the hospital lobby after what feels like a marathon. It's not even nine in the morning.<p>

Her ears are ringing since there has been loud crying for the most part of the car ride, but now she only has a very pouty and tear-stricken Zola holding her hand and an exhausted Bailey hanging onto her neck.

"Rough night?" she hears, as soon as she steps into the lobby, the sliding doors closing behind her. She lifts up her eyes and spots Amelia, talking to another very familiar-looking young woman. Despite her crap morning, she feels like smiling.

"Bailey is teething and he might have an ear infection," she confesses, moving closer to the duo.

"Wow," the woman blurts, making Meredith smile a little wider.

She takes in the features of her former patient, the same smile, the same dancing, strong eyes, her hair is probably a little shorter, but Beth Monroe looks the same. She's like a beacon of hope.

"Beth, it's so good to see you." She'd hug her, but her children have the monopoly of her, she doesn't have any hands to spare, so she settles for a smile and a nod of her head.

"I wish the circumstances were different, but yes, it's good to see you too. Are you still Dr. Grey?" Beth grins, eying the children attached to her.

Meredith laughs with Beth. "I am. This little man here is Bailey and this one is Zola. Can you say hi to Mommy's old patient?" she prompts her daughter.

Zola frowns. "She not old."

Beth has a hard time keeping her laughter at bay, and so does Amelia. "She's not old, you're right, Zola," Amelia supports her.

"I hate brothers, Auntie Amy." Zola frowns, glaring at Bailey. Meredith's smile dies on her lips. Is the blob in her uterus a boy? Will it live long enough for them to find out?

"Tell me about it, Zo." Zola bypasses completely Amelia's sarcastic tone, which makes Meredith relax once again.

"He stole my Mommy." Zola folds her arms in front of her chest, pouting. "And he steals my toys too."

Amelia's eyes soften. "He didn't steal your Mommy. He can't steal your Mommy, I promise."

"But he can steal my toys!"

Amelia sighs, still smiling. "Yeah, he will do that."

"Daddy stealed your toys too?"

"I stole his because I was younger, just like Bailey." Amelia laughs, winking. "Now he steals my surgeries, so I guess we're even."

"That's not nice." Zola frowns. "Stealing's not nice."

"Tell your Daddy that then when he calls."

Zola nods solemnly, making Amelia grin. These two are a dangerous duo, Meredith knows that well.

"You and Dr. Shepherd then, uh?" Beth smirks towards Meredith, the same mischievous glint in her eyes she had when she was seventeen. Meredith sighs, defeated.

"Married almost five years now." She knows she looks miserable and she hates that just the memory of what they used to be brings her spirits down. They were so happy in that lounge, with their blue post-it signed and their lives aligned. Now she feels like they are disconnected, and not simply because he's on the other side of the country.

"Dr. Shepherdess told me he's in DC now, mapping brains and being the coolest kid on the playground." Beth smirks, a knowing look on her face, almost as if she knew he'd be destined to greatness.

"He is. He left last night, you just missed him," Meredith says, trying to hide the sadness in her tone.

"Too bad." Beth smiles. "I still liked you better, anyway."

Meredith finally smiles. At least someone likes her today.

She sighs loudly. "Have you discussed the test results with Dr. Shepherd already?"

"No, we're about to," Amelia replies for her.

"Do you mind waiting for me, I need to take Zola to daycare and have Alex check on Bailey."

Beth beams. "I would love to have you there, maybe we can catch up if you're not too busy."

"Maybe," Meredith sighs. She can make time for Beth. She can.

"I can take Zola to daycare, so you can go find Alex. Monkey Monster looks miserable." Amelia grins, looking at Bailey with sympathy.

"Living up to his nickname," Meredith sighs, bouncing him on her hip as he keeps clinging to her.

"Alright, Zola," Amelia beams, excitedly. "Let's go show Beth a conference room, we can talk more about how annoying brothers are."

Meredith throws her a look and Amelia looks guilty for a split second, her eyes falling on Meredith's stomach. She bites her lip, as Zola lets go of Meredith's hand and tangles her fingers with Amelia.

"I'll see you this afternoon, alright?" Meredith bends a little to kiss Zola's head and the girl practically grimaces. Meredith sighs loudly, settling Bailey again against her, pushing back her tears. Stupid hormones. Stupid crappy day.

"Do you have a yucky brother too?" Meredith hears Zola ask Beth as they walk away from her, disappearing in the meanders of the hospital.

"Okay, let's go see Uncle Alex so that he can make you feel all better," she whispers into Bailey's ear, the boy barely grunting, still hiding his eyes from the light.

* * *

><p>Bailey's slimy snot is all over her jacket, but she doesn't have time to care. She hasn't had time to change into her scrubs, either. She's still wearing her brown cashmere woolen coat, and Bailey is bundled up in his winter coat too, also wearing his blue and sandy colored monkey-shaped hat. His favorite. The ends of his hat are also covered in snot. She'll remember to wash that later, hopefully.<p>

She'll wait to change into her scrubs after she tracks down Alex, though she doesn't know what she'll do with Bailey. He's still feverish, meaning he can't go to daycare. Hopefully one of her babysitters is available on such short notice.

She pages Alex Karev 9-1-1 to an empty exam room, and he's breathless when he arrives five minutes later. His scrub shirt is on crooked, and his white coat is wrinkled. It's pretty damn obvious to Meredith that he's just left an on-call room. He looks surprised to see her.

"Please tell me you've washed your hands," she sighs, half joking, half serious.

He dismisses the comment. "What's wrong? Why did you page me 9-1-1?" His eyes expand wider, filling with dubious concern, when he first notices Bailey sitting on the exam table, looking miserable. Tears proceed to gush from the little boy's eyes, and his mouth and nasal areas are covered with globs of snot. Meredith's hand supports his back, forcing him to sit up, but it's clear that her little guy just wants to lie back, so she lets him. Still, she doesn't remove either of her hands from his warm body.

"He, uh, has a fever and I'm pretty sure it's an ear infection," Meredith explains. "His pediatrician said he should be cutting some molars soon, so I'm sure it's that…" She isn't sure if she is trying to convince herself or Alex that it was that; her doctor brain tells her that it is just an ear infection and teething, but her mommy brain tells her it can be something worse.

"Then why'd you page me? Call your pediatrician and get him to write you a prescription? Or better, write him one yourself," Alex laughs, mocking her.

"Pretty sure I used all my _Get out of Jail Free _cards when Zola was first adopted with the pediatrician," Meredith sighs, stroking Bailey's sweaty hair, embarrassed to admit that every time Zola coughed during the first six months they'd had her, she had worried it was pneumonia or some other life threatening illness. "And I don't feel comfortable diagnosing my own children. It's terrifying, and we're not supposed to. You'll understand why one day when you have kids. I just want to make sure it's nothing more, okay?"

Alex chuckles and smiles at Bailey, who doesn't even break a smile back at his Uncle Alex like he normally would. That shows how sick her little boy is really feeling.

"Your mommy is _such _a hypochondriac. Isn't she, Bails?"

"Am not! Take that back," Meredith protests. Bailey whimpers when she raises her voice.

"Nope, because it's the truth," Alex responds, putting on a pair of gloves. He grabs the otoscope, examining both of Bailey's ears. "Your left ear is definitely a little swollen. No wonder why you're so miserable. Now, let's look in your mouth." He takes a tongue depressor and opens up Bailey's mouth then shines a flashlight inside it. "And look at those nice pearly whites you have cutting into the back of your jaw, little man. You'll be chewing a nice big juicy steak in no time."

A little weight shifts off her shoulders as Alex confirms her diagnosis, though she still can't shake the feeling that there could be something else they're missing.

"Relax, Mer. He's just teething. Fevers and ear infection are normal accompanists with teething, but you already know that. I'll prescribe him some amoxicillin and he'll be back to normal in a few days. Won't you, Bailey? Tell your momma to stop worrying."

Alex pats Bailey's head. For the first time all morning, Bailey cracks a smile.

"You should be more worried about yourself than Bailey," Alex notes, eying Meredith.

Meredith freezes. Why is he saying that? _He can't know, can he? _She knows gossip travels fast in the hospital. Two out of the three people who know are on the other side of the country, and she can't see Amelia telling anyone. She'll gladly kill her if she has.

"What?"

"Jo heard some rumors when she was passing the nurses' station this morning about you, but don't worry, I told her the nurses are full of crap anyway. I don't know where they come up with half of the crap they talk about. Especially something this bizarre…"

Her entire body goes numb. Of course the nurses know. She's had her blood taken twice by OB. All it took was one nurse knowing for every stinking nurse in the hospital to know.

"You would have already told me if you had ovarian cancer, right?"

Her heart skips a beat. _What the hell? _"What? Of course I would have told you! I don't. I swear to God," she gasps, stunned and also mortified by what she's hearing.

"See, that's what I told Jo. I'm your person or whatever. You tell me everything, and while I tune you out most of the time, I'm pretty sure I would have heard that," Alex shrugs.

"The nurses think I have ovarian cancer?" Meredith gapes, still trying to comprehend how someone would make up such a sick, disgusting, awful rumor about her. She would rather the whole hospital know she's pregnant. Cancer isn't something to joke about.

"Apparently Shepherd's mom is moving to Seattle to help you raise the kids while you undergo treatment," Alex adds. "Again, bizarre, since you never mentioned Mama Shepherd was in town...so I figured it had to be all fake."

Meredith laughs coyly. "Actually, Derek's mother was in town. She came with Derek for Zola's birthday, but she left. She and Derek both left. They came and they went."

Alex snickers. "Dirty."

Meredith's covers Bailey's ears. "Little ears!" she scolds. She's already forgotten about his sore ear, because as soon as she covers his ears with her hands, he starts to fuss again.

"You're the one making dirty jokes," Alex shrugs, "and his ears are too sore to hear them, anyway."

"Takes a person to interpret a joke dirty for it to become dirty," Meredith quips, "and I don't want to take any chances."

"Relax, Mer. I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to scar him when he's older, if your and Shepherd's yelling doesn't already do that. From the way your sister-in-law talks, that's a likely possibility. Hey, maybe that's the _real _cause of his ear infection."

Meredith is stunned, terrified at the thought. Though, they'd barely yelled within earshot of the kids. Most of the yelling had taken place in the lounge or in the closet. She blames herself for so much as is. She might as well blame herself for Bailey's ear infection, too. Sure, why not? Everything else is her fault. She's Dr. Screwed-Up.

Screwed-up mother, screwed-up wife, screwed-up doctor. Screwed-up everything.

Alex chuckles. "Relax, Mer. I'm just messing with you."

She frowns, not amused at all.

"Let me guess? You have patients to see," Alex says. She nods, thinking of Beth. "Well, Bailey can't go to daycare because of his fever. I can keep an eye on him."

"You'd do that?" she asks hesitantly, not because she doesn't trust Alex, but because she doesn't want to be a burden him more than she already has.

"Yeah, sure. I still don't potty train, though."

"Right," she giggles, remembering when he'd adamantly told her that one time when he was watching Zola for her while she worked. She smiles graciously at Alex. "Really, Alex. I owe you…"

"You can buy me a pizza," he offers, winking in Bailey's direction.

"Hey, why don't you come over tonight? Derek ordered enough pizza to feed an army for Zola's birthday party. There's still plenty of leftovers. You should come and eat some of them," Meredith offers, sincerely hoping he'll take her up on the offer. The pizza has to go. The thought of it makes her insides churn.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll bring the keg," Alex grins.

_Of course he will. _Meredith smiles hesitantly. "Great…sounds like a plan." She kisses Bailey's forehead, which already seems to be a little cooler than it was when she brought him to see Alex. "Be good for Uncle Alex, my little Monkey Monster."

Bailey burps goodbye.

Something tells her she isn't going to be able to keep this pregnancy a secret for as long as she kept Bailey's.

* * *

><p><strong>Irene's AN: So, they are miserable apart, and on top of it all, they're both having horrible mornings. I feel for them, I really do, but we need them to miss one another and bad mornings happen, especially when you barely sleep the night before or your little boy is sick. **

**If you can be patient a little longer, you just won an invite to the best pizza leftovers party with Alex and Meredith! He's bringing the keg, guys ;)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Irene's A/N: Happy Sunday! Thank you for the 250 reviews so far, we're so happy you're still enjoying this story!**

**Now, the terrible morning Meredith and Derek had is apparently not over. Read on to see what happens next!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

* * *

><p>Meredith reaches the conference room and finds Beth and Amelia already there, talking animatedly like they're not about to reveal her that her glioma is back, and it's probably malignant again. She's glad Amelia is giving her some kind of normalcy for a few more minutes, she lets her be a normal twenty-two year old kid.<p>

Suddenly, be it her body wanting to shut down from exhaustion, be it the nervousness before the meeting with Beth, her breakfast saltines don't want to stay in her stomach anymore, and before she can greet the two women again she excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

She dashes quickly inside, but she doesn't make it into the stall, only to the basin. She holds onto the ceramic for deal life, heaving like she had eaten a Thanksgiving meal and not just a couple of dry saltines. She feels her leg wobble and tears spring to her eyes at the memory of Derek's hand on her back, supporting her.

She should have not pushed him away, she's so stupid. So damn stupid.

She feels a little feverish too by the time her stomach is empty, and she blames Bailey for it. A fever is the last thing she needs at this point. She can't have the luxury to be sick.

"Please," she mumbles, and she's not sure if she's addressing her body or the blob in her uterus. She hopes both of them will behave today, since her workday has barely begun.

She tries to look presentable again, then she goes back to the conference room with nonchalance. Beth is looking at her with a frown, Amelia looks concerned.

"Are you okay?" Beth asks, eying the two doctors alternatively.

Meredith sighs deeply, grateful for the somewhat stale, hospital air. "I should be the one asking this question."

She slumps on a chair next to Beth, leaving to Amelia the seat at the short end of the table, squeezing the girl's shoulder as the mood in the room shifts.

"Your daughter is hilarious," Beth says, trying to break the tension, to prolong her ignorance.

"She is," Meredith smiles, knowing that despite everything, her daughter has a special light inside of her, a light she's sure she won't be able to foster if she has to do the parenting alone. Derek feeds her light, she's just bossy.

"I bet Dr. Shepherd is smitten."

Meredith revels in Beth's knowing smirk, her face softening as she leans back on the chair. "He's the one who wanted to adopt her two days after meeting her." When he falls in love, Derek falls hard, and Meredith can't help lowering her eyes to her abdomen, remembering Derek's eyes as he talked to the blob and worshipped her skin with kisses. Her hand resting there is barely a faint memory of all the love he has for this baby.

"How old is she?" Beth smiles, a little oblivious to her own turmoil, and Meredith is glad her poker face is getting better as her senses wake up.

"She just turned four yesterday."

"Aw, I thought she was older, she's such a bright little girl."

Meredith nods, humming, almost praying that she won't dim her brightness with her dark and twistiness.

"Beth," Amelia's voice interrupts them gently, her chart in her hands, the scans now sprawled onto the surface of the table. Beth's smile returns to a fixed line, and it's like she knows what's coming.

"It's back, isn't it?" she bites her lip, her eyes filling with tears. "The tumor is back."

Amelia and Meredith nod at the same time.

"Damn it!"

Meredith can see the tears in Beth's eyes, and they break her heart. Honestly, she feels practically the same.

"Look, – " Amelia's voice is sympathetic, calm, collected. Meredith has a hard time keeping the tears at bay. "We don't know what we're dealing with exactly at the moment."

"But it's malignant, right? Your face is telling me it's malignant."

Meredith sighs. "It is. We'll do – "

"Everything you can, I know the drill." Beth looks away, her eyes lost outside, in the mist that now covers the city, and Meredith can see the memories of her past resurfacing.

"First, we would like to have a couple of weekly rounds of chemo, all the while we'll do scans every three or four days to monitor the growth," Amelia explains, and even Meredith understands that there's a huge 'but' there.

"But it's growing fast, uh?" Beth has an ironic smile on her lips, her head shaking as she chuckles. "How fast?"

"Fast." Meredith can't manage anything more, she simply reaches out and puts an arm over Beth's back, much like she would do to her own daughter when she feels distressed, rubbing slow circles, soothing a pain that it's practically impossible to soothe.

Beth chuckles again, disguising her tears. "This sucks."

Meredith lets out an equally teary giggle. "It does."

"You knew. That's why you're here, right?" Beth eyes Meredith a little wary, knitting her eyebrows.

"I knew. I saw the scans."

"Even if you're in General now, Dr. Grey? Dr. Shepherd told me that while we were coming here."

Meredith smiles sadly. "Even if I am in General I can still look at brain scans. Risks of living with two neurosurgeons, I guess."

She's able to bring back the smile on Beth's lips, much to her relief. She can treat patients today, especially Beth. Her marriage is crumbling down, her daughter hates her, her son is sick and whiny and miserable, but her patients are there. Her work is there, even if it's just a simple procedure or just informing the family; her work is unwavering.

"How come you're in General now? Honestly, when they said Derek Shepherd wasn't available but they were sending me another Dr. Shepherd neurosurgeon I totally assumed it would be you." Beth's question is another punch in the gut, no matter how innocent it sounds.

"Compromise. And the fact that I would have killed Derek before our second year's anniversary if I saw him daily at work, as my boss."

Beth laughs, but Amelia looks at her with puzzlement. She can smell the fishy in her answer, but she lets go of it.

"Is he still...what was it? Mc...?"

"McDreamy?" Meredith smirks, though it feels fake. He was McDreamy the previous morning, with his kisses and his stolen touches, his thousand watt smiles and his leaning. She misses that Derek more than she misses him altogether. "Sometimes."

"And he still hates the nickname." Amelia adds, easing up some of the tension. Meredith is grateful.

"He's a party pooper. He has always been, even during the trial. Also, he had a hideous picture of himself on the _Annals of American Neurosurgery_ and an even uglier picture of me. I told him which one he should have published!" Beth smiles as she rants, and Meredith knows she's trying to cover up her fear, to change the subject so that she doesn't have to think about the fact that she might die soon.

Meredith laughs as well at the memory. The picture was good. He was sexy and professional, and she had been jealous he had his face on the front cover while he barely mentioned her name in the article. He has always been better, smarter, funnier, more put together than she ever was, but it's in their work she always feels inferior. She's jealous she might end up being his intern forever, even now that she could be running her own department. She gave up things for him, and sure, a Neuro fellowship was not a job with the president, but it was something for her. She turned around her career for him, and now he's in DC and he never compromised anything. He never treated her like the housewife she has never been, but when they compare their careers it feels like he does.

"He never listens, and he's stubborn as a mule," Meredith sighs deeply, missing her husband anyway, even his stupid flaws. "He's working on your case though, even if he's not here. He cares."

"He always did, even when he had the sad eyes the first time I met him." Beth grins. "He cried when I woke up the first time and held his hand."

"He'll cry again the next time you wake up from surgery, tumor free." Meredith nods trying to convince herself more than Beth. She needs Beth to be okay.

"How long do I have?" Beth asks, lowering her gaze, her expression somber once again.

"Three months tops," Amelia replies bluntly, but Beth seems to appreciate it. Meredith can see the strength in her gaze, in her whole body, the fight that still hasn't left her. She wishes she could be so willing to fight as Beth is, a little less tired and scarred from life that she wants to fight in the first place. Death is so overwhelming, and yet, Beth is facing it head first. Meredith would gladly hide, now. She's done fighting. She has seen too much death for a lifetime.

She's ready to praise Beth for everything she has become, to thank her for being an example for everybody when suddenly Beth starts convulsing on her chair.

Both her and Amelia react on instinct. They lower Beth's body on the floor, on her side, as Meredith holds up her head while Amelia tries to find some lorazepam to stop the seizure. When she comes back with the syringe Beth is already coming down from the episode. Meredith is still cradling her head like she would do to a child, and as soon as she stops convulsing she starts smoothing back her hair, rubbing her shoulders, easing her back into awareness.

"You're okay," she murmurs, pushing back the tears, trying to lower her own adrenaline and her own blood pressure.

Beth remains on the floor until two nurses and the two doctors help her on a gurney. They park her in a corridor as she groggily comes back to her senses, Meredith still vigilant next to her, Amelia doing some routine neurological checks.

"You're still here?" Beth murmurs, blinking slowly.

"Of course." Meredith smiles, squeezing her hand.

"You're so a mother now." Beth chortles, her eyes closing again. Meredith's heart fills with joy at the statement. She might be a crappy mother, but at least she is one. "I hope you don't treat all of your patient like this."

"No, just the very special ones." Meredith winks, pushing away a lock of hair from her forehead.

"Yay for malignant gliomas." There's everything but excitement in her voice.

"You will beat this again, Beth. You will."

"I didn't take you for an optimist person, Dr. Grey. You were pretty giddy during the trial, but not that optimistic."

"Der...Dr. Shepherd is the optimist, I'm a realist. I know you can beat this."

"Or die trying, uh?"

Meredith sighs, sitting on her gurney, squeezing her hand. "You won't die. I will not allow it."

"Fine," Beth relents, smiling.

"Are your parents in Seattle? Do we need to call them?"

"They're in the Bahamas, enjoying a relaxing week for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Of course I will start seizing while they're on vacation." Beth's sarcasm brings a smile on her face.

"Alright, I can stay here a little, then."

"Very very motherly." Meredith glares at her, but she's glad that even if it's just appearance, Beth is not totally giving up, she still has her spirits. "You know what would make me feel really better? A story."

Meredith laughs. "Now you really sound like my daughter."

Beth giggles. "Seriously, how did Dr. Shepherd propose? Looks like he might be one of those cheesy guys with the whole romantic restaurant and kneeling down on one knee."

"No restaurants and no kneeling either," Meredith smiles slowly. "I'm sure there was no kneeling because he was proposing to me, I should consult with Amelia on how he proposed to his first wife."

Amelia grins from her spot near the monitors. "There was a romantic French restaurant in Manhattan and kneeling involved when he proposed to Addison."

Beth looks a little puzzled. "Wait, I have a brain tumor, but I don't remember him being married. You two were pretending not to be together back then."

"We weren't together and he was already divorced."

"I don't believe it one second that you two weren't together during the trial." Beth smirks. "Anyway, proposal. Spill."

"Yeah, Meredith, spill. I will be the first one to know how my idiot of a brother proposed, I will have blackmail material." Amelia wriggles her eyebrows in excitement. "I bet he blurted it out. After sex."

Meredith blushes crimson. "No!"

"Right," Beth fuels.

"It was in an elevator. And you were there. Well, your scans were there." Meredith points out to Beth, whose eyes widen a little. "He had a speech."

"I bet it was cheesy." Amelia giggles.

"It was one of his speeches, you know? He's good at those."

"Oh, tell me you didn't forget it."

Meredith sighs. Of course she hasn't forgotten. She clings to that speech, just like the vows on their post-it, even if sometimes they seem to belong in a parallel reality.

Gosh, she misses his voice.

"He said something about me helping him move forward because I don't freeze when things get rough, because my life has been crap and that I'm a survivor, and then he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. That was it. He was very McDreamy, I promise you." Meredith cuts things short, trying to repress the good memories so that she doesn't miss him even more. She can already feel the tears building up as she remembers how sure he looked when he proposed, how much love he had in his eyes. Will they ever get to spend the rest of their lives together?

Amelia laughs. "Why did he have scans there?"

"They were scans from surgeries we performed together. My very first time in an OR I was with him. Katie Bryce, subarachnoid hemorrhage from a burst aneurysm."

"That was your first surgery as an intern? I'm so jealous!" Amelia squeals.

"So romantic…" Beth fakes a swoon, giggling. "And now you have two kids, and the little one is the spitting image of him."

Meredith giggles. "He swears Bailey looks like me, so don't tell him that."

Beth grins. "How old is Bailey?"

"Nineteen months. He's slightly more social, usually, but he has an ear infection and a fever and he's teething. We didn't have a good night."

"Crap, I should have come home." Amelia looks guilty.

"Nah, at least you slept some."

Amelia looks even more guilty, and she's definitely blushing. Meredith can't investigate further, because Amelia sends her a pretty explicit warning glance. She will speculate later, because she's sure Amelia didn't sleep much either last night.

"You're living the life, Dr. Grey, even with a teething baby."

Meredith sighs deeply. "I'm not so sure about that."

There's an awkward moment of silence then, when everybody is too afraid to say something about it, until Beth's eyes widen a little when she looks at Meredith. "You're not sick too like your son, are you?"

"Of course not, I'm fine."

Beth frowns. "I don't want your stomach bug germs, too. I think a tumor is enough."

"I don't -"

Beth's lips curl up into a smile. "Oh my God, you're pregnant!"

Meredith pinches her nose, sighing in defeat. She _really _can't keep this baby a secret.

* * *

><p><em>I'm home<em>

His mother's text arrives at exactly three p.m., nearly three hours after he'd hugged his mother goodbye.

The two hour meeting had felt like a twelve hour meeting, most of which he had spent in lala land. Luckily, it had been a budgetary meeting, so he did not need to give a presentation. He'd just listened and nodded his head as other people in fancy suits babbled about numbers, numbers that had gone in one ear and out the other. His mind had been far from the dollar signs presented to him. He would have rather been home having a tea party with Zola.

He hadn't had time to make it to his apartment before the meeting, so he'd purchased a new slim-fit blazer at _H&M_ out of desperation. It is a nice suit, though it's a little loose in the shoulders. He did not have time to have a suit fitted for his body shape, so this one had to do.

Derek is on his way back to the National Institute of Health in Bethesda. He shares a cab with two other guys from the NIH, two guys he's worked side by side with for almost a month, yet he can't recall their names.

He texts his mother back. _Love you. _Derek gulps, hovering over Meredith's name in his text history. He has texts from two of his NIH co-workers asking if he's going to make it back in time for the meeting and other project-related questions, then there's a series of ignored texts from Amelia begging him to give Beth's case another shot and reminding him to fax her his notes (he'd forgotten, oops), then he comes to Meredith's name.

Their last text exchange was two days ago, when he'd texted her to tell her that he was getting on the plane. She never replied. He remembers he called her when he arrived in Seattle, so there is no trail of that arrival.

During the cab ride, Derek scrolls through his entire text history with his wife, reflecting on their short, curt conversations. They don't text often. Both prefer video chatting or talking on the phone over text messages. So much could be misinterpreted via text message, plus no text message could substitute for the sound of her voice. He'll never understand this generation's texting phenomenon. Surely by the time his kids are teenagers, there will be a new phenomenon he won't understand either.

He's dying to send her a text message now, though, to at least tell her he arrived safely in DC. She would like that, wouldn't she? She has to still care, even though she was pretty adamant about not wanting him there.

Derek knows she said all that she did to get him to leave. He knows that she knows he wouldn't leave easily, especially knowing she's pregnant, so she had to say everything that could be said to hurt and anger him to get him to go. She hadn't meant half of what she'd said.

At least he hopes she doesn't. He likes to believe that she doesn't, anyway. Maybe his mother is right. Maybe he underestimates her love for him.

It was his first time home since moving to DC and taking the job on full-time, and right in this moment he's more homesick than he's ever been. They say the first visit home for college students after moving away is always the most painful. He feels like a homesick college freshman.

Rather than texting her like he's dying to do, he ends up re-reading their text messages over and over. They go all the way back to shortly after Bailey was born. _Where are you? _the first text in the string of messages reads.

"So, how are the wife and kids?"

At first he doesn't hear his co-worker's question.

"You did go home for a couple days, right?"

Derek quickly taps out of his text messages and locks his phone, revealing his lock screen, a photo of Meredith and the kids taken a couple months ago. Both kids have grown so much. He forgot to ask his mother to send him the photos she'd taken of the kids at Zola's birthday party. Derek makes a mental note to do that later, though he's bound to forget. Just like he's forgotten to send Amelia his trial notes.

Well, they are _his _notes. He'll send them to her at his discretion. He's still pissed that Meredith gave them to Amelia without saying anything to him. They might be her notes, too, but they're his also. Just another detail Meredith decided she could leave out.

Who knows what else there is that she's leaving out. The thought sickens him.

"Cute family," the guy - Derek's pretty sure his name is Brian - continues, seemingly desperate to strike up a conversation with him.

"Yeah," Derek nods, his heart breaking as he speaks. "They are."

The cab stops in front of the NIH doors. There's a line outside to get inside, just like there is pretty much every time Derek goes to work. Everyone who enters the National Institute of Health has to walk through the metal detector and be searched by security for weapons, just like in any government building in DC and surrounding areas.

Sometimes it's gruesome and annoying, but it serves a purpose. It reminds him of when Seattle Grace Mercy West (before the name change) tried to implement a similar safety procedure after the shooting. There were too many flaws in the system in Seattle, though. The NIH is a well-oiled machine.

"It can't be easy being away from your family. I couldn't imagine," Brian, or maybe it's Brandon, says as they stand in line to enter security. He's really desperate to have a conversation with Derek Shepherd.

"You have no idea," Derek responds dryly, uninterested in having a conversation with Brandon or Brian or Ben - whatever his name is. He's pretty sure it starts with a B. His office is next to Derek's, though Derek has barely spoken two words to the guy before today. Why the sudden interest?

The man - maybe his name is Brad - takes out his cell phone and shows Derek his lock screen, a chunky Korean toddler with short black hair. "My daughter Samantha. She turned two a couple weeks ago."

"She's beautiful," Derek smiles genuinely, not taking his eyes off the photo.

"My husband and I adopted her from Korea last year. Not a day goes by that I'm not grateful to see her at night when I go home. She's the light of my life. I can't imagine not seeing her every night," Bill? says. "Sometimes she's the only thing that gets me through the day."

"Ah. My daughter was adopted from Malawi," Derek tells the man. Bob?

"I saw the pictures on your desk, and I'd been waiting for the right time to bring it up," Brendon? admits.

"Ah, I see," Derek replies. "Zola was actually a patient of mine first. Our hospital was doing pro bono work for African kids, and Zola was one of those kids. She was born with spina bifida."

"Wow, that must not have been easy." The man looks a little stunned.

Derek laughs. "Oh, you have no idea." He sighs, reminiscing woefully as memories of the challenges and hoops he and Meredith had gone through to adopt Zola; the memory of the trial aftermath almost brings tears to his eyes.

The pain he feels now almost mimics the pain he felt then. In fact, the pain might even be more intense today. Feelings of pain and loss that he'd experienced back then were the sorrows of possibility of losing everything he'd dreamt about. The pain he feels right now is the sorrow of losing everything he has. It's not about his dream not coming true. His dreams already came true. It's about his dream forming into a brutal nightmare.

"You know, I never would have guessed by the photos you have that your daughter has spina bifida," the man comments. "She looks so happy and healthy."

Memories of Zola clinging to his leg, begging him not to leave, come flooding back. His last memories of his daughter are not happy ones. She was not happy. Instead, he tries to picture her that morning, smiling and happy, telling him and Meredith that her wish had come true.

Her wish had _temporarily_ come true, like all else in his life. Happiness is temporary. Everything is temporary, right? Even life itself is just temporary.

"She has a mild form of spina bifida," Derek explains. "She can walk, run, and function just like a normal person, we just need to keep an eye on her shunt."

"Sounds like she's incredibly lucky," the man replies as they're both next in line to go through security.

"I guess she is," Derek nods, walking through the metal detector. The man follows after him.

"Does she have any speech delays? You said you adopted her from Malawi, right? I ask because Sam's two and hasn't spoken a word. She doesn't babble much, either. The pediatrician tells me it's normal for foreign adopted children to talk late."

He chuckles. "Zola didn't start talking until she was almost three. My wife and I were worried about that at first, too. Then she started one day, and she hasn't stopped since. Trust me, you'll want to enjoy the quiet while you can."

"Well, that makes me feel better." There's a hint of genuine relief in the man's voice. "By the way, your little boy looks just like you."

"Really? I've always thought he was a splitting image of my wife." He remembers holding his son for the first time, and all he could see was Meredith. Bailey was her male twin.

"He has her hair color and smile, but the rest is all you," the man replies. "Let me guess, oops baby?"

It takes Derek a moment to digest what the man is saying, since he hardly considers Bailey an oops baby. Sure, they weren't actively trying to conceive a baby, but they weren't doing anything to prevent it, either, and their intimacy had heightened after the plane crash. They were both surprised, but in a good way, especially after it seemed like all hope of having a biological child of their own was lost. Zola was perfect, although Derek had always wondered what his and Meredith's child would look like.

Bailey is his answer to so many previously unanswered questions. Bailey and the baby in Meredith's womb, the baby he longs to meet in about nine months.

"We were having fertility troubles when we adopted our daughter," Derek admits.

"Then less than a year later you found out you were expecting?" the man asks, and without confirmation from Derek, adds, "It always happens that way. Unless you're gay. One pro, if there are any, of being gay. We get to choose our family."

The man laughs, but Derek isn't amused.

"I prefer to embrace surprises," Derek responds bitterly. Thankfully, he's reached his office. He storms inside, closing the door behind him, not bothering to say goodbye to the meddlesome man (or learn his name).

* * *

><p>After confirming her pregnancy to Beth, and receiving an unwanted congrats from her, Meredith feels emptiness wallow inside her as she and Amelia bid temporary goodbyes to the young woman. They both know it's the first of many meetings with her. Meredith is certain that Beth would much rather not see either of them again. As much as she likes Beth, Meredith, too, would prefer to never see her again. At least not like this. Not under these circumstances.<p>

They've admitted her for overnight observation. A nurse is monitoring her and is instructed to page both of them if Beth seizes. Even though she bid her farewells to Neuro a long time ago, Meredith wants to remain up to date on Beth's case. She feels like Beth is partially her responsibility. She's her baby. Her last remaining piece of hope. _If_ she can save Beth again, then maybe, just maybe, she can save her marriage.

Beth and the embryo in her uterus share that in common. She's avoided looking at the baby in her uterus as any form of hope. Instead, she's chosen to see it as just the opposite. As something that's trying to destroy her already complicated life. Maybe she's been looking at it all wrong.

Their baby is fragile, just like her marriage is these days. Though, against all odds, the baby is thriving. Maybe, just maybe, the baby can survive. Maybe her marriage can, too.

They saved Beth once. Now she's sick again, but she can be saved. Beth Monroe can be saved again. She just needs a little help. Maybe she's the eye opener that Derek and she need. Relationships take work. They don't stay strong on their own. They take effort, no matter how much love is involved.

Or maybe she's stupid for holding onto hope. Maybe Beth is going to die, just like the baby in her uterus, and just like her marriage.

Meredith doesn't know what to think anymore.

"Hey, want to grab lunch?" Amelia interrupts her train of mixed, complicated thoughts.

A short laugh escapes Meredith's mouth, and she can't help but ask, "Derek didn't tell you to keep an eye on me, did he?" She rolls her eyes, prepared not to be surprised if he did.

Amelia actually looks taken aback by the question, though. "No?" She raises both of her brows and sighs. "To be honest, he didn't tell me much of anything. He refused to offer me any advice on Beth, though. I've never known my brother to be so selfish. It's not like he hasn't seen the scans. He has…"

"He doesn't want to help Beth because of me," Meredith responds in a dull, lamentful voice, knowing it's the cold, sad truth. Meanwhile, she hears her stomach gurgle, crying for food. She's actually hungry. Considering the little scarce amounts of food she's eaten over the past couple days, she's not surprised. She feels emaciated. Yet, she's afraid to eat, since she's regurgitated everything she's eaten in the past two days.

"Talk about selfish," Amelia mutters. Meredith doesn't tell her sister-in-law that Derek isn't the only one being selfish, though. She's been just as equally as selfish. She was selfish when she decided to stay in Seattle instead of move to DC with him. After all, she's the reason that their family is apart right now.

"_You know what, you're being selfish!" _Derek's words from their initial fight scream in her head as she recalls when she'd told Derek that she wasn't moving to DC.

"_Well, I have to be, Derek, because you believe that your career is more important than mine." _

"_At this moment in time, it is!" _

Her gut twists as her memory replays that harrowing, game-changing fight. Derek is being selfish, but so is she. _I have to be, _Meredith thinks. Or maybe selfishness is the root of their problem. Why should she be the one to give in, though? It feels like she's always the one giving in.

He was willing to give up DC for her and the kids. Twice. She saw how miserable he was when he gave it up the first time, and she won't watch him suffer that pain and resentment again. She isn't willing to let him resent her and the kids for the rest of his life because he gave up his gigantic opportunity to change the face of neuroscience.

The more she thinks about it, the more complicated their dilemma becomes. She can't think anymore. She can't.

"You know, lunch doesn't sound like such a bad idea," Meredith sighs, flashing Amelia a weak smile.

The women head toward the cafeteria. Fumes of food fill her nostrils and, for once, don't make her nauseous. She's starving. She could eat a cow, but she'll keep it light since she doesn't want to take any chances of regurgitating her entire meal in front of the whole cafeteria. She won't help contribute to the rumors at the nurses' station. At least not willingly.

She orders a garden salad without dressing, a piece of unbuttered bread, and a bottle of water. Amelia orders a cold roast beef sandwich, which, admittedly, looks tasty. Meredith continues to play it safe, though.

As they're looking for a place to sit, they come across Maggie Pierce sitting at a table all by herself. Meredith locks eyes with Amelia, sighs, and knows she's thinking the same thing Amelia is thinking. Maybe Maggie is someone worth getting to know.

"Hey." Amelia lets Meredith take initiative. Meredith smiles tentatively, a contentious sense of warmness abiding her face.

Maggie looks up from her half-eaten ham sandwich and bag of potato chips. "Hi," she responds haphazardly, clearly taken aback by the fact she's being spoken to, though she's probably more shocked by _who _is speaking to her.

"Uh, you're eating alone?" Meredith asks, still holding onto her tray and standing beside Amelia. She shares a quick look with Amelia, who has a dorky proud smile on her face. The smile on Amelia's face distinctly reminds Meredith of the smile on Derek's face when she finished her first solo surgery without error.

"Yep," Maggie replies, rattling the bag as she pulls out a chip and places it in her mouth.

Meredith looks at Amelia again, who rolls her eyes this time.

"What Meredith's trying to ask is, do you mind if we join you?" Amelia laughs.

Maggie's eyes expand in clear disbelief; she swallows the chips in her mouth and smiles, "Yeah, I mean sure, take a seat. Please do."

Meredith and Amelia both take seats across from Maggie, where they begin to eat in awkward silence. Finally, Meredith breaks the silence.

"So, Amelia, do you think the chemo is really Beth's best chance?" Meredith asks, not having anything better to talk about. Work is her life. After the kids, it's what keeps her going. It's what keeps her sane.

In between swallows, Amelia replies, "Honestly? No." Meredith's heart sinks, suspecting that would be Amelia's answer. "I'd like to take another look at the clinical trial, but the last I checked Derek hasn't faxed me the notes. He said he would when he got to work this morning." Amelia glares at Meredith.

"Don't look at me. I haven't talked to him," Meredith scoffs. "Good luck getting those notes. You could call him and remind him? I guess his flight was delayed last night, and he arrived around six o'clock our time, so nine Eastern time." She leaves out the fact that she didn't hear that information from Derek. Meredith has the timezone conversion down to a science. She can look at the clock at any time and know what time it is for Derek.

Amelia doesn't question how she knows what she knows, though. Another reason Meredith loves Amelia.

"Yeah, he was just leaving the airport when I talked to him last night. And _I'm _not calling him and reminding him." The adamance in Amelia's voice is firm, and she's clearly not about to budge. She adds hastily, "I've already sent him countless texts that he hasn't replied to."

Poor Maggie looks completely lost, as should be expected.

"Dr. Shepherd...uhhh, your husband…" her eyes flicker between Meredith and Amelia with sheer confusion and perplexion written all over her face, "...your brother...went back to DC?"

"Yes," Meredith and Amelia reply almost in unison.

"And you're working a case together?"

"Yes," Meredith and Amelia reply, this time perfectly in unison.

"It's an old patient of Derek's and mine," Meredith explains. "She was part of our clinical trial years ago, back when I was still a resident."

"So you did your residency here at Grey Sloan?" Maggie asks, clearly attempting to start a conversation, and Meredith honestly doesn't mind it, for once.

"Yes, well, back then the hospital was called Seattle Grace, then it merged with Mercy West and became Seattle Grace Mercy West, then the hospital almost closed after the lawsuit, the crash survivors pooled our winnings together and joined forces with the Harper Avery Foundation and we renamed the hospital after Mark and Lexie, so here we are. Eating lunch in the Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital cafeteria." She rambles, sure that she's talking too much, but Maggie doesn't seem to mind.

Maggie looks engrossed in the conversation, though clearly dumbfounded by the masses of information being dumped on her. "Plane crash? What plane crash? And I thought the hospital was named after our mother...I mean Ellis Grey…"

"Wrong Grey. Actually, it's named after my half-sister Lexie Grey. She and Derek's best friend, Mark Sloan, perished in a plane crash that Derek and I were also in," Meredith explains.

Maggie frowns, looking somewhat guilt-struck. "I'm so sorry."

Meredith ignores Maggie's sympathy, though, and continues, "Grey isn't even Ellis' maiden name. She married my father, Thatcher, also Lexie's father, before medical school and took on his last name professionally since she was already married by the time she started her career."

"I see," Maggie's eyes widen. "Gosh, it's crazy. I know nothing about the woman who gave birth to me, and it turns out the stuff I thought I knew isn't true."

"Welcome to my world," Meredith responds bluntly.

"Right, sorry about that," Maggie quickly apologizes, blushing, just as Alex takes a seat on the side of Meredith, and Callie sits down next to Amelia.

"Wow, I have to say, this is a sight I thought I'd never see," Alex announces, looking back and forth between Meredith and Maggie.

"What? Meredith and I eating lunch together?" Maggie inquires. It's true, Meredith knows, it is quite the uncanny sight.

"Yeah, I thought you hated each other?" Alex laughs, biting into his lasagna, the fumes linger into Meredith's nostrils, her stomach rolls, and she's quick to unwrap a mint in her pocket. Why did Alex have to order lasagna? Fortunately, the mint manages to subside the nausea and Meredith sips at her water, focusing her attention away from Alex and his stupid lasagna.

"I don't hate Maggie," Meredith iterates firmly, sharing a friendly smile in Maggie's direction. "At least not anymore."

"I don't hate Meredith anymore, either, then," Maggie nods, still looking surprised by the fact that Meredith said that she doesn't hate her.

"Aw, well, isn't that sweet? You have _two _new sisters, Meredith," Callie teases, sending glances in Amelia's and Maggie's directions.

"Hey, Mer and I have been sisters for quite a while now. She's been married to my brother for almost five years," Amelia notes.

"_Almost _five years. Who wants to bet that they won't make it to five?" Alex says with a mouth full of food.

"Alex!" Meredith rolls her eyes, not wanting to admit that she wonders if she and Derek would make it to the magic fifth anniversary herself. Twenty percent of marriages end within five years. That's one in five. The odds aren't in her favor.

"Hey, it's the truth. Anyway, we still on for tonight?" Alex asks, shoveling more food in his mouth. Meredith can't look at him any longer without feeling nauseous, so she doesn't. She looks at Amelia instead.

Amelia's brows narrow in confusion. "What's tonight?"

"Mer didn't tell you?" Alex asks. "She invited me over for pizza."

"Sounds like fun," Maggie comments, her eyes glistening.

"You should come," Meredith suggests, the words escape her mouth so naturally, like Maggie isn't the half-sister her mother gave up for adoption that she'd just found out about a few months ago. "There's lots of pizza leftover from Zola's party. Derek bought enough to feed an army, so please come."

Elements of surprise migrate across Maggie's face. "Really?"

"You should come, too," Meredith eyes Callie.

Callie laughs. "I'd love to, but Arizona has Sofia tonight and it's my first night to myself since God knows when. I think I'll stay home and dance in my underwear."

Alex chuckles. "Party pooper."

"Believe me, there's no better party than dancing in your underwear. _Alone_." Callie seems pretty adamant about that, too.

"Nah," Alex responds, "I'm bringing the keg. It's going to be great time. Shepherd's out of town, and once the kids are asleep we're going to raise the roof off. Now that I think about it, we've never partied at your _dream _house. Right, Mer?"

"Nope," Meredith smiles warily; they've always left the parties for the frat house. She spent too many nights at Alex's to avoid confronting Derek when they were fighting. Or she'd go there after a big fight, so she didn't have to look at Derek. But Derek is gone now, and she has no one to hide from. He's in DC, not lurking in the shadows of the gigantic house he built for them.

"It'll be a dream come true, then," Alex teases, though Meredith isn't humored. For a moment, she wishes she could ditch the pizza party at her house and join Callie at the dance-in-your underwear party. It's sounding more appealing now.

"Oh?" Amelia locks eyes with Meredith. "I don't drink."

"Well, you're no fun," Alex responds matter of factly.

"You know what's no fun? Wanting so badly to drink but not being able to…" Amelia murmurs, eying Meredith. "It takes a hell of a lot of self control."

"I have self control," Meredith responds, knowing exactly where Amelia is going with her statement.

"Right. The only time I've seen you turn down alcohol was when you were pregnant with Bailey. It's a miracle that kid wasn't born with fetal alcoholism," Alex says rather seriously.

"Bailey!" Meredith gasps, springing to her feet almost instantly, dismissing Alex's distasteful remark. "You're supposed to be watching Bailey, and if you're here…" Her eyes widen in terror. "Where's my son, Alex?!"

It's silent, and then Alex laughs. "You think I'd just leave him? Relax, Mer, Jo is watching him."

His mouth is full of lasagna when he speaks, sauce dripping down his cheek. He reaches for his napkin, but it's too much for her stomach to handle. Meredith darts out of the cafeteria as fast as a badger.

She's so focused on making it to the closest toilet that she completely misses Miranda Bailey watching her as she sprints into the women's restroom.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: Happy Winter Solstice! (If you live in the Northern Hemisphere. It's the Summer Solstice if you're in the Southern Hemisphere). Anyway, Friday was Irene's birthday, so make sure to wish her a late happy birthday in your review. There's no greater gift for a writer than a review. :) **


	18. Chapter 18

**Nicole's A/N: Hope you all had a Merry Christmas! It's my ninth anniversary on FFN today. That's a lot of years of fanfic. :) Hope you all like the chapter as a late Christmas gift. Irene and I would love reviews as presents. There's no greater gift for a writer. ;)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

* * *

><p>Meredith splashes some water on her face after throwing up even her salad, sighing in defeat. Nothing agrees with her. She'll die of starvation before this baby is born. Or it's one more sign she'll end up miscarrying. Neither option is appealing.<p>

She's ashamed to go back to the table, even though she hates to leave her friends hanging. It's not like they'll worry, they figured out by now that she went to check on her son. She thinks it's not a bad idea to actually see Bailey, so she sets off in the direction of the Peds floor.

She stops at the nurses' station right at the entry of the wing, asking one of the nurses for the whereabouts of Jo Wilson, but they can't answer her clearly. Of course they can't, they're probably too busy spreading nasty gossip. She's surprised she still hasn't heard that her son is dying by now, since he has been with Alex the entire morning.

She decides that checking the floor room by room is her best option, so she starts from the exam rooms, but they are all empty. She then checks the closet, though she's grateful when she doesn't find her son sleeping in the dark. Her attention shifts to the patients rooms instead, and she gulps loudly when she finds her little boy in one of the beds, alone.

He looks restless, even in his sleep, and the bed is way too big for his small frame. She feels the room closing on her, and a deep rooted fear that maybe it's not just a ear infection if he has an IV in his little arm settles in the pit of her stomach.

Where in the world is Jo Wilson?

Her mental question gets an immediate answer when Jo enters the room, appearing very guilty.

"Dr. Grey, hello." She looks very nervous, and Meredith can't blame her. She'd be nervous too if she abandoned her boss' baby alone, her boss' _sick _baby.

"Dr. Wilson, how's my son?" she asks through gritted teeth.

"He's fine. He's asleep, -"

"I can see that," Meredith rolls her eyes. "Why does he have an IV? Did you run some tests?"

"He was dehydrated, we gave him a saline drip and some Tylenol for the pain. It seems like the tooth is really cutting through, and the infection is slowly subsiding."

"Right."

Jo gulps. "We ran every test in the book. Here," she quickly pulls out Bailey's test results from the stack of papers she's carrying in her arms "it's all written here. He's fine, Bailey is fine."

Meredith is still suspicious, but her fears subside as she reads through Alex's scrawl, the numbers and treatments and comments written there comforting her. All the terrible scenarios she has pictured in her head slowly melt away and when she looks up she can just see her sick, miserable baby boy.

Her baby boy who's waking up.

"Dada," he mumbles, turning around, his eyes still closed. "Mama."

"I'm here, Monkey, I'm right here," she whispers, dropping the chart at the end of his bed then sitting next to him, trailing her hand through his slightly matted hair, feeling his forehead burn just a little less.

"Mama,"

"You're okay, Mama's here," she mumbles in his ear before leaving a kiss on his flushed cheek.

He repeats the same syllable of her name over and over again as she cradles him and kisses him, wishing that the medicines had already killed all the viruses and he would be her active little boy once again. She hates to see him this miserable, this vulnerable, but she's glad she can be there for him. She needs to snuggle with him and hold him, make him feel safe, bring him at least half of the comfort he's bringing her.

Her eyes close for a moment as she breathes in the lingering smell of watermelon shampoo from his hair, leaving another kiss on the crown of his head as Bailey's body slackens in her hold.

She sighs loudly. "Wilson, can you keep an eye on him, I need to go pick up Zola from daycare, my shift is over."

"Of course!" she replies quickly, nodding eagerly.

"You can't leave this room, understand?"

"But if he falls asleep…"

"You can watch him sleep. I can do that for hours."

Jo is stunned into silence, her eyes a little wide, as Meredith takes another deep breath, kissing her son once more.

"I will be back soon, Monkey. Close your eyes and rest and you won't even miss me."

"Mama," he whines, and it makes her give in. She coaxes him back to sleep and she stays with him until his breath evens out and his eyes stop fluttering. He looks just like Derek when he sleeps.

"How's my favorite Monkey Monster?" Alex's voice comes from the door, turning Meredith's head.

"Everything seems fine," Meredith sighs, watching as Jo hands him the chart and he checks the test results himself.

"He'll be back to his mischievous self in no time." Alex winks, chuckling. "How's my favorite girl?"

Meredith turns to smile sadly at him, and knits her eyebrows at Jo's icy glare. "She's angry and stubborn, but I can't really blame her." Alex smiles sadly. "I have to go pick her up from daycare, maybe her mood has improved."

"Your shift is over?"

"Yeah, thank God for that." Meredith sighs. "So you'll come to my place around eight?" Jo's eyes boggle at that.

"I can probably make it for seven thirty, I still need to visit with my girl and have her tell me all about her birthday party, it might take a while."

Meredith smiles. "Wilson, are you coming?"

Jo stutters, looking a little lost.

"I invited Alex over for pizza. It's leftovers, but we can have a good time."

"I'm on call," she replies quickly, quick enough for Meredith to know it's an excuse, but she feels good she has invited her. Her conscience is clear.

"Too bad," Alex replies, sending Jo a meaningful look. "Do you need us to keep an eye on Bailey?"

Meredith sends her own look to Jo, showing her how Alex wins point with her, a slight smirk on her lips. "Thank you. Don't leave unless it's 9-1-1."

"You got it. We have a lot of stuff to check on, your boy and I."

"Please, don't corrupt his little, innocent, germ-spreading brain."

She can hear Alex's laugh from the corridor as she walks towards the end of the wing, reaching the daycare room more quickly than she expected. Or maybe she was just too lost in thought and tired to notice that it took her the exact same time.

Zola is quiet and curt with her when she signs her out, but she immediately perks up when she sees Alex.

"Uncle Alex, I'm four!" she squeals, running into the room and waking up Bailey. She seems unfazed by that, maybe even pleased, though she frowns when her brother starts whining. She decides to ignore it. "How come you didn't see me open all my presents and eat all my cake?"

"You ate all the cake?" Alex widens his eyes in emphasis. "Then I guess I won't come tonight to eat the leftover cake, because there isn't any." He winks at Meredith, and tries to suppress his grin. Meredith is trying to do the same at the sight of Zola's face.

"No!" she corrects right away. "I gots cake. And lots and lots of pizza. Pwlease come. I maked cookies with Auntie Amy. Pwetty please!"

Alex laughs, then hugs Zola tightly. "Of course I'm coming over. We can have another party!"

Zola grins, hugging him back, though there's still a veil of sadness in her eyes. "You didn't come to my party."

"I was at work, I'm sorry I missed it, you're still my favorite girl."

"And you're my favorite uncle!"

Alex laughs. "I'm your only uncle."

Zola's eyes widen, but then she giggles too, hugging him again. Meredith is glad that at least her best friend can bring a smile on her lips in the midst of all the sadness that surrounds her kids. They need the lightness that Alex can bring in their life, and she can't wait to have him over for dinner to light up the mood of the house as well.

She's not sure she can be lightened up as easily as Zola, though; she's pretty sure only Derek can brighten her mood right there and then.

The Derek-shaped hole in her chest seems to become deeper and deeper.

* * *

><p>The mass of emails that have swarmed his inbox in his two days' absence is bloodcurdling. He spends at least two tiring hours responding to the emails he'd seen come through on his phone but had been too lazy to bother looking at until now. In between typing and reading, he steals glances at the photo frames on his desk. Sometimes he finds himself gazing at them for much longer than a glance.<p>

There's a massive hole in his heart, and it can't be repaired with his family on the other side of the country. So, he buries himself in work.

He reads up on all the latest findings and reports, not that there's been much progress in two days' time. These kinds of things take time. Big breakthroughs aren't going to happen over night.

After each email he types, he checks his phone, clicking it on and not to check the time, either. He can see the time clear as day in the right corner of his desktop computer. Minutes tick by each time he looks at his phone. It's habitual. He's not expecting new notifications, after all. Meredith won't call him, not after how they left things.

He'll let things sizzle for a few days before contacting her. It's best that way. Maybe Zola will surprise him with a phone call or a Skype session. She knows how to work Mommy's phone and iPad, and she knows how to click his picture and call him. He hadn't even shown her how to do it. Heck, she probably knows how to work it better than he does. Three-year-olds - four-year-olds! - today are so smart when it comes to technology. Even Bailey at not even two years old plays iPad games. He loves the doodle app. Sometimes Derek doodles brain images and tries to explain each function to the kids.

It's seven o'clock in DC, so it's four o'clock in Seattle. He wonders if Meredith is still at work. Knowing her, she probably is, meaning the kids are still in daycare. He knows she hates it when they're in daycare late. He does, too. It's not like they have many other options, though.

They have an emergency list of babysitters that Dr. Bailey had given them, but Zola and Bailey would rather play with their little daycare friends, anyway, as opposed to a babysitter who's college aged or older. Besides, it's good for the kids to focus on socializing with other kids. Some studies suggest that kids who spent a lot of time in daycare are more social than those who didn't. Of course, that's controversial and no daycare can match the love and nurture of a child's parent.

He knows Meredith was raised by nannies, and from the way she acts whenever he brings them up, he gathers she must have had a rough time with them. She's never been very specific about that, so he's only basing that off his own assumptions.

He's still mad at her for pushing him away, but that doesn't mean he's not worried about her. Not just her, but their unborn child too. The sonogram image is neatly folded in his coat pocket that's hanging behind his chair. He digs into his pocket and pulls it out.

His eyes stare blearily at the image. The exhaustion he's felt since this morning only intensifies after typing up a storm to catch up to all his email responses. He traces the little dark blob with his finger, finding himself with a cheesy, heartfelt grin on his face.

"Hi, baby," he whispers, as if Meredith is right in front of him and it's Meredith's bellybutton his finger is tracing.

He hasn't spoken to her, Amelia, or anyone in Seattle, for that matter, all day. For all he knows, the unborn child that he holds in his hand is no more. Derek's gut twists. She wouldn't call him if she miscarried, would she? She would try to hide it from him for as long as she can. Now that he's in DC and she's in Seattle, he won't know.

He puts the sonogram image back in his pocket and reaches for his phone, tempted to call her. He scrolls down to the letter _M _in his contacts. But it's not Meredith's name he taps. It's the name underneath.

* * *

><p>It takes three rings for Miranda Bailey to pick up. "Shepherd, this better be good. I'm about to remove a rare pancreatic islet cell tumor."<p>

"I'm sorry for bothering you. I was just wondering….Meredith isn't scrubbing in with you on that surgery, is she?" Connie said no lengthy surgeries. That surgery could be a long one.

"No. Why are you asking?"

"I just...I was wondering if you'd worked with my wife today. I've been trying to get ahold of her and she hasn't been answering her phone," Derek explains. It's little white lie, but Bailey doesn't need to know that he and Meredith aren't exactly on speaking terms right now.

"No, I have not worked with _your _wife. For what it's worth, I saw her in the conference room with the other Shepherd earlier and at lunch I saw her storm into the bathroom looking like she was about to vomit. I'm starting to wonder if the rumors are true…"

"What rumors?!" Those damn nurses. He wonders if word of the pregnancy had already spread. A nurse had taken Meredith's blood. It's not improbable that she'd blabbed her mouth. He's not completely ruling out recommending that the board cut OB nurses.

"The nurses are saying she has cancer and your mother is moving to Seattle to help raise the kids while she undergoes treatment," Miranda enlightens him.

His heart falls into the pit of the stomach, even though he knows for a fact that his mother isn't moving to Seattle. Meredith had been pissed when she'd found out that Carolyn was visiting with him. Still, his mind went back to the odd conversation with Owen in the elevator about family members treating family members. _Amelia and Meredith in the conference room together. _His stomach turns. No. He can't let these nurses get to him. They almost never get their facts straight, and he knows that for certain.

"They think she has cancer?!" Derek bellows, anger building his veins, now royally pissed that people are saying that about his wife.

"She doesn't?"

"No! She's pregnant!" The words escape his lips and he can't take them back. Meredith is going to kill him. He lowers his voice, even though he has no one to lower it for specifically, "and you can't tell anyone. Bailey, she'll kill me if anyone else finds out. We already had a huge fight before I left, and I just need to know she's okay. I need someone to keep an eye on her when I'm not there…"

Bailey laughs, "So you call me? You know, I was leaning towards pregnant. Shepherd, I'm not going to hover over your wife for you. She's a big girl and can take care of herself."

"Look, it's a high-risk pregnancy, and the OB said there's a good chance she'll miscarry. She's already spotted...I'm desperate here, Miranda." He resorts to calling her by her first name.

"I can see that, but there's nothing I can do. There's nothing you can do. You can stop being a self-righteous asshat and accept there are some things you can't control, especially when you're on the other side of the country from your family. If you're so damn concerned, maybe you should think about that."

"Don't you think I have?! I wanted to stay when I was there, Miranda. She wouldn't let me. She made me come back."

"What'd she do? Sedate you and put you in one of those big UPS boxes and ship you across the country? Last time I checked, she can't _make _you do anything," Miranda Bailey proclaims loud and clear.

"No," Derek mumbles.

"You're a big boy who's more than capable of making your own decisions."

"Look, can you just find out if she's okay for me?" Derek sighs, helplessly.

"No, I cannot," replies Miranda firmly.

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" Derek cries.

"You wait. She'll call you when she's ready to talk to you. I've worked with Meredith Grey long enough to know that she loves you with all her heart and she'll never let you go, even when you're a selfish prick. Hell, you could physically stab her in the heart and she'd still come running back to you. She loves you, Derek," Miranda tells him, and while it feels good to hear those words from her, he needs to hear them from Meredith to believe them.

"Right," Derek sighs, still not convinced.

"I have a surgery to get to. Don't you _ever_ call me about your personal dilemmas again," Miranda Bailey instructs, and the line goes dead just as there's a knock on the door.

Derek groans. He's really not in the mood to deal with people. One perk of having his own office that locks. He can't remember the last time he didn't have one, and he never wants to share an office with someone again.

It's the man whose name he doesn't know.

"Can I help you?" Derek asks, trying to sound as polite as he can even though he'd much rather rip the guy's head off.

The guy's smile makes him want to stab someone's eyes out. "I thought you'd want to see the new machines we talked about at the budgetary meeting this morning."

"The what?" His mind is blank. Truthfully, he can't remember anything from this morning's meeting besides a bunch of numbers and having signed some papers.

"The machines you authorized us to purchase," the man responds, and Derek is still clueless, but he has to pretend like he knows what he's talking about. It wouldn't look good if he didn't know what these machines were considering he supposedly authorized the purchase of them.

"Oh, right!" Derek feigns a gleeful smile.

"Yeah, we're watching a demonstration of them down in Conference Room 65B, if you'd like to join us," the man says.

He glances over at the pictures on his desk, the only reminders of him while he's here at the NIH. Right now, the pictures only bring him sadness and homesickness. Maybe he needs to get out of his office. He needs to get his mind off these things.

"Yeah, sounds good," he nods his head and follows the man down to Conference Room 65B.

The video demonstration is already playing when he enters the room, and just like that, he's sucked into the magic of neuroscience revolution.

This is the reason he's in DC.

* * *

><p>The house that Carolyn cleaned spotless is unrecognizable. Zola's toys are scattered everywhere, and Bailey is content in his playpen, where he's been napping for most of the afternoon. She and Zola had a tea party while Bailey slept. The medicine knocked him right out.<p>

The door swings open, and Amelia enters; Alex and Maggie follow closeby.

"Uncle Alex, Auntie Amy!" Zola hops off her chair, dashing toward her uncle and aunts. She looks at Maggie timidly, then. "I 'member you, you were at my party."

"I was," Maggie smiles shyly at the little girl, then Zola's eyes widen when she sees what's in Alex's hands. He has two six packs of beer in one hand, and a polka dotted gift bag in the other.

"Did you get me a pwesent, Uncle Alex?!"

"Maybe…" Alex winks, glancing at Meredith. The commotion has awoken Bailey, who stands up in his playpen, still sniffling. He wiggles the playpen walls, and without thinking, Meredith bends over and picks him up before he can start crying. She's already forgotten about Dr. Ryan's orders, considering she's been picking up her son all day. Taking care of Bailey is her number one priority, though. She touches his forehead, which feels much cooler now and walks over to the couch to sit down, so she can relax with him.

Zola bounces up and down eagerly. "What'd you get me?!"

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Alex hands the bag to Zola.

Zola eagerly takes out the object inside the bag, revealing a stuffed rainbow unicorn wearing an _Iowa Hawkeyes _jersey. "Oh, it's so pwetty!" Zola's eyes shimmer.

"Your Aunt Amelia told me that you love rainbows and unicorns," Alex explains, "and I saw this and thought you'd love it. And Iowa is where Uncle Alex went to school, so this unicorn is even more special."

Meredith can't resist laughing, wondering where the hell in Seattle Alex had found a rainbow colored unicorn with his school's jersey. She won't ask right now, though.

Instead, she asks, "What do you say, Zola?"

"Thank you, Uncle Alex!" Zola throws her arms around her uncle, who picks her up and twirls her around as he comes into the living room and takes a seat.

"Come and sit." Meredith motions for Maggie to join them.

"Who's ready for pizza?" Amelia's face lights up.

Zola unexpectedly groans in response, though.

"Momma, I don't want pizza. I eated pizza yesterday and the yesterday before and I don't want no more. I gots a bellyache like you does from it," Zola says quite forcefully as Amelia takes the remainder of the pizza leftovers out of the refrigerator.

Alex and Maggie both laugh at Zola's little ramble.

"Zola, it's the last pizza night, I promise, and then we won't have pizza for a long, long time," Meredith assures Zola, feeling nauseous at just the thought of the pizza stinking up the house. She only hopes the blob in her uterus will cooperate, so she doesn't vomit everywhere, especially in front of Alex and Maggie. They can let the incident at lunch slide, since she can conveniently use looking for Bailey as an excuse for storming off, but she's nearly all out of excuses.

"Can I have cake and cookies instead?" Zola smiles sheepishly. Of course she would be tired of pizza but not cake and cookies. She and Auntie Amy had baked chocolate chip cookies yesterday afternoon before Amelia was paged back to the hospital.

"Zola, please," Meredith frowns, looking in Amelia's direction for help.

"Zola, believe me, if you think pizza is going to give you a bellyache, you definitely don't want cookies and cake for dinner. All that sugar will make you sick," Amelia insists, though Zola isn't budging.

"Silly Auntie Amy, cookies and cake _never _maked me sick!" Zola announces, sticking out her lip, determined to have her way.

"Tell you what, Zola. If you eat one slice of pizza, I think your mommy will agree that you can have the last piece of cake and a cookie. How's that sound?" Amelia's eyes direct toward Meredith for approval. Meredith nods, agreeing with Amelia's statement.

"Auntie Amy's right. One slice of pizza, and you can have cake and a cookie for dessert," Meredith repeats, exhaling sharply, hoping that will be enough for her daughter.

Zola accepts the bargain. "Okay."

"But first, you need to wash your hands," Meredith says. Zola nods eagerly and runs into the bathroom off the kitchen to do so. Meredith wonders if she should chase after her to make sure she uses soap, but Bailey is content and she doesn't want to risk upsetting him. Instead, she just calls after the little girl, "Make sure to use soap!"

"I am, Mommy!" Zola calls back. Meredith hears the water running from the bathroom.

Maggie shakes head; her lips form into a wide grin. "She's as cute as a button, isn't she?"

Meredith smiles proudly, "Cuter, I think."

"And this little guy's so quiet," Maggie observes, eying the half-sleeping Bailey in her lap.

Meredith bursts into laughter. "Oh, you should have heard him last night. He was anything but." She sighs, begrudged by the recollection of Bailey's screaming fests last night. "Hopefully he's not putting on a show for his Uncle Alex and Aunt Maggie and will be this quiet all night long." _Aunt _Maggie, the word just flows out of her mouth, and she doesn't second guess it. Maggie's cheeks flush, though, and Meredith can tell she's taken aback.

"Dude, where's the pizza?" Alex says impatiently, looking in Amelia's direction.

"Hold on, I think the toaster oven is broken…" Amelia groans, grunting obnoxiously at the Hamilton Beach toaster oven on the counter.

"Is it plugged in?" Meredith asks. She stands up, handing her son to Alex. Fortunately, he doesn't fuss. "Let me…"

"Of course it's…oh _dang_, you're right. I feel like a blind idiot now," Amelia sighs loudly, plugging in the toaster. Within moments, the toaster clock begins to tick.

"Right, well, let's get the keg out while we wait for that crap to warm up," Alex suggests, focusing his attention to the beer bottles he'd brought with him. With Bailey's head still resting comfortably against his shoulder, he hands a beer bottle to Maggie with his free hand.

_Oh, great, _Meredith thinks as Maggie pops the bottle open, and the fumes of beer touch her nose. It's almost more nauseating than the pizza. She covers her hand over her mouth, swallowing the stomach acid that's already bubbled up her esophagus.

"I want keg!" Zola declares, running from the bathroom and detracting Meredith's focus away from the alcohol fumes. She throws her arms up in the air and chants, "Hands all clean!" Meredith grabs her daughter's hand and takes a whiff of the lavender scent to double check, and also to fill her nostrils with a scent that isn't beer.

Maggie and Alex both laugh, both clearly amused by her four-year-old's request for alcohol.

"She'll be an alcoholic by the time she's five," teases Alex.

"Oh, shush. Besides, I am not an alcoholic," Meredith retorts, shifting her focus to her little girl. "I think we have some juice in the refrigerator, Zola. How about some apple juice?"

"But I want what everyone else is having," Zola pouts, crossing her arms together firmly.

"Zola, apple juice _is _keg," Maggie insists, hopefulness twinkling in her eyes.

"Nuh uh. If apple juice is keg, then why can't I just have what you're having?" Zola points to the bottle in Maggie's hand.

"She's good," Maggie admits. "Much smarter than I was at her age."

Meredith heaves a sigh. "Tell you what, Zola. What if I have apple juice with you and your brother? Mommy doesn't want keg."

Alex snorts after her last statement, but Meredith manages to pretend like she doesn't hear.

"Apple juice is so much cooler than keg," Amelia adds, taking the container of apple juice out of the refrigerator. She lowers her voice, "Keg is actually kind of nasty, Zola. Trust me. Some keg tastes like skunk." She winks.

"Ewwwww." Zola wrinkles her nose and shoots a disgusted look at Alex. "Uncle Alex, why you drink skunk? Gross!"

Alex shrugs. "My keg doesn't taste like skunk. Does it, Maggie?"

Maggie blushes and doesn't answer him.

"Alex, you know, you're really not helping," Amelia says sternly, rolling her eyes from the kitchen.

"Has anyone told you that you sound a lot like your brother? You're both party poopers."Alex shoots at Amelia. Meredith's muscles tighten at the mention of Derek. She steps into the kitchen and removes two large glasses from the cupboard, remembering that Amelia can't drink since she's a recovering alcoholic, and she takes out Bailey's sippy cup and a small cup with a lid for Zola.

"I happen to think I'm much cooler than my brother, thank you very much," Amelia rolls her eyes. She lowers her voice so it's only audible to her and Meredith, "Derek never did fax me the notes."

Meredith sighs, not sure how to respond to that, so she chooses not to. Thinking about Derek just makes her heart hurt, and her heart has permeated enough hurt for one day.

It's then she realizes that the pizza aroma has permeated the air in her kitchen. Her stomach rolls and takes Zola's and Bailey's cups into the living room. She hands Zola hers and takes Bailey from Alex's arms and sits back down with him. It's especially important for Bailey to drink since he was dehydrated earlier.

She offers him the sippy cup, but he pushes it away.

"Come on, Bay, you have to drink liquid. We don't need you dehydrated again," Meredith sighs, feeling helpless. Her little Monkey Monster is determined not to drink his liquids. He takes the cup out of her hand and then throws it across the room, only to hit Maggie in the head.

"Ow!" Maggie screeches at the time of the collision.

"Oh, my God!" Meredith gasps. "Are you okay? He really didn't mean to…"

"I'm fine," Maggie insists, fumbling her hand around the spot of impact: her forehead. Alex takes a quick look at the spot.

"Looks like a little egg," Alex notes, examining her head.

"Do I need to take her in for a head CT?" Amelia asks, trudging from the kitchen toward Maggie to examine the spot herself.

"Really, guys, I'm fine. It's not the first time I've been hit in the head. In fact, it's not the first time I've been hit in the head with a sippy cup," Maggie laughs. "Kids at daycare always used to tease me and throw things at me."

Amelia frowns. "Well, that's not nice."

"Bailey not nice," Zola points at her brother. "Bad, bad, Bailey. You gots to go to time out."

"He really didn't mean it," Meredith insists, genuinely feeling bad for Maggie. She honestly doesn't want Maggie to think that it's some conspiracy to get her out here only to poke fun at her. Meredith doesn't have that intention at all.

"I know. He's just a little boy," Maggie nods in understanding.

"Momma, he gots to go to time out. I had time out after I threw my dolly at him," Zola tugs at her shirt persistently.

"Zola, the difference is you purposely threw your doll at Bailey. Bailey accidentally threw the sippy cup," Meredith insists, desperately trying to justify why she isn't going to give her sick nineteen-month-old son a time out.

"No fair," Zola stomps her foot. "How does _you _know it was accident?"

Meredith sighs tiredly; she's exhausted. She's exhausted from fighting. First Derek, now Zola. She can't put up a fight anymore. She's drained, her energy is depleted, she just can't...

"Zola, your brother isn't feeling well," Alex tries to explain for her, but Zola is still clearly frustrated.

The toaster oven dings, signaling the pizza is ready, bringing Meredith's attention back to the thick pizza permeation aroma circulating throughout her house. Her insides twist and she sets Bailey back in his playpen, where he can't hurt anyone before making a run to the master bathroom.

She chooses to make the extra strides to the master bathroom for the simple fact she doesn't want to risk Alex and Maggie overhearing her puke.

Though the urge to puke dissolves almost the minute she enters the bathroom, since the scent of pizza hasn't traveled that far. She breathes inwardly, recollecting herself. She swallows and splashes some water on her face and washes her hands with soap. After all, she made Zola wash her hands, so it only makes sense that she would, too, before dinner.

Although there's no way she's eating any of that pizza. Secretly, she's on Zola's side. Cake and cookies sound much more appetizing.

Last night she stocked a jar of Carolyn's mints in her bathroom for all the right reasons, so she quickly unwraps one of the mints and places it in her mouth. The mint starts to dissolve, instantly relieving all of her nausea.

She takes one more deep breath before returning to the living room. By then, Zola is already sitting on a bar stool munching her piece of pizza she promised she would eat in exchange for cake and cookies. Maggie and Alex are at the dining room table with their pizza and beer, and Amelia has situated Bailey in his highchair and is attempting to serve him a slice of pizza. Meredith doesn't expect he'll eat much, even though he needs to eat something.

"You okay?" Amelia mumbles under her breath.

Meredith nods. "Fine."

"I'm guessing you don't want a slice?" Amelia asks, sarcasm evident in her voice.

"I'll pass," Meredith says, loud enough for Zola to hear her.

"Nuh uh, no fair. If I gots to eats pizza, so does you, Momma," Zola says in between chews. Meredith quickly looks away from her daughter, unable to look at the gooey sauce and cheese in her mouth; she's already fighting the pizza odor. She can't take it anymore.

Within seconds, she's back in the master bathroom, this time unable to remove the tomato scent from her nose. She shakes as she pukes her entire stomach contents for the third time today. Her stomach muscles throb, pulsating like she's done one hundred sit-ups.

When she stops, she lays on the cool floor, remembering two days ago, when she'd thrown up for the first time, and Derek had comforted her on this very floor. A tear lingers heavily in her eye, wishing he could be here right now, rubbing her back, pulling her hair back, cradling her like she's a child.

Why did she have to push him away?

Right now, in this very moment, she hates herself more than she could ever imagine hating herself.

* * *

><p><strong>Irene's AN: Okay, this chapter was supposed to end with all of them going to bed and falling asleep. They're still having -or puking- dinner, instead. We're sure you guys won't mind the split, right?  
><strong>

**I hope you all had a great Christmas, you ate a lot of food and enjoyed some time off, and remember Nicole's fic-versary!  
><strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**Nicole's A/N: Welcome to the last chapter of 2014. I think you'll be pleased with how it ends. We wouldn't end 2014 on a bad note, after all. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Right now, in this very moment, she hates herself more than she could ever imagine hating herself.<em>

* * *

><p><em>Pull it together, Meredith, <em>she thinks. Alex and Maggie are still sitting in her kitchen eating pizza that her husband had ordered. They're eating the last memories she has of Derek's short-lived visit.

_Good, _she thinks. The pizza has to go. It's not like it brings back good memories. The pizza has to go for them to move forward, to move past this stupid bump in the road.

Of course moving forward also requires that they talk, a bridge Meredith isn't ready to cross yet. She can't even begin to fathom how she'll apologize to him. He shouldn't forgive her, and she doesn't expect him to. She won't blame him if he avoids her for weeks. She would ignore herself for much longer than that, after all, if she had the chance.

Her head spins as she shifts her weight to her hands for support as she stands up. She splashes some more cool water on her face and then brushes her teeth this time, so no residue of vomit breath remains.

She returns to the kitchen, grabs her apple juice glass, and hovers the liquid close to her nose. At least the scent of apple juice can drain away the pizza smell. For once, she wishes it wasn't January and freezing outside, so they could eat out on the deck and she wouldn't have to be surrounded by a whole house of pizza odor caused by the stupid toaster oven.

Without a second thought, she grabs some cinnamon spice Febreze and sprays the entire living area and kitchen, attempting to override the pizza scent. Soon, the house smells of cinnamon instead.

Alex is eying Meredith suspiciously. She wonders if he's onto her, but he doesn't say anything. Maybe he's questioning if she was lying about the whole cancer thing. Why would she lie about something so awful, though? If she had cancer, Alex would probably be the first person to know, since she would need someone to tell her how to tell Derek. She can't imagine ever having to break such devastating news to Derek. It would be worse than when she had to break the miscarriage to him, and she thought that was the worst news she ever had to tell him.

Now she finds herself wishing she will never have to give him that kind of bad news ever again.

"So, uh, how's your patient?"

Thank the Lord for Maggie freaking Pierce. Meredith never thought she'd actually say it. In this moment, though, she's grateful for Maggie changing the subject.

"She's under observation, and so far, Meredith and I haven't been paged, so that's a good sign," Amelia responds, smiling warmly.

"You two are working a case together?" Alex asks. Meredith makes sure not to look at him; she can hear him chewing.

"Beth's back," Meredith says softly.

"Who?" Alex sounds confused.

"Beth Monroe. You know, Derek's," her heart skips an uneven beat when she speaks his name, "and my trial patient. The glioma trial."

"Is that the one where he got published and didn't mention your name even though it was your idea?" Alex asks.

"That would be the one," Meredith replies glumly.

"And then he called you a baby?"

Amelia perks up, curiosity evident on her face.

_Please, Alex, don't, _she frowns, painfully recalling Derek's remarks about her being a baby resident. _She'll always be his resident in his eyes. _She wants to cry, but not now. Not here. Not in front of everyone.

"Mama, what's _glee_-oma?" Zola asks curiously, interrupting the grown-up work conversation. Normally she tunes out the boring work talk, which Meredith is generally grateful for. Meredith will never be prepared to explain the awful diseases she deals with day in and day out to her children.

"A glioma is a brain tumor, which is what your Auntie Amy and Daddy are specialized in removing," Meredith explains, hoping that will be enough for her.

"Is that what Beth gots?" Zola asks, sounding worried. Meredith is surprised that Zola even remembers Beth's name. She really is growing up. If she's old enough to ask, then she's old enough to know. Meredith truly believes that. She knows Derek likes to sugar coat things with the kids, but Derek isn't here now. She vaguely remembers him telling Zola that she'd come from the stork when she'd asked why her skin color was different from her parents and her brother.

"That's exactly what Beth has," Amelia answers, "except Beth has a very special type of glioma. Hers is cancer."

"Oh, no! This boy at my daycare's daddy had cancer and he died. Is Beth gonna die?"

"We hope not," Meredith laments, sighing.

"How does someone know if they gots cancer?" Zola asks in the most innocent little voice that crushes Meredith's heart.

"Uh, well, there are a lot of different symptoms, Zola, and it depends on the cancer," Alex chips in.

"With brain cancer, usually a person will have really bad headaches," Amelia explains, just as Bailey starts to fuss. He's pointing at his sippy, which is sitting next to Meredith. He continues to point, and even though he doesn't speak, Meredith knows exactly what he wants. She picks up the sippy and manages to go into the kitchen without feeling overly nauseous as she hands the cup to her son. This time, to Meredith's relief, he grabs the cup from her willingly and starts to drink.

"Gosh, Mer, doesn't he know how to speak? He's almost two. All I ever see him do is point. He should be using his words by now," Alex comments. He has a smirk on his face, but Meredith doesn't find the remark the least bit humorous.

"Zola didn't start talking until she was almost three," Meredith retorts, not needing Alex criticizing her parenting, too. Derek does that enough as is.

"Zola was adopted from a foreign country, though. Bailey wasn't," Alex points out. "Do you read to him a lot? Reading to kids when they're this age helps them with talking."

Admittedly, no, she doesn't read to him as much as she should. By the time she gets home on an average night, it's time for bed, and she's exhausted. With Zola, she read to her all the time. So much has been pushed aside with Bailey, and she feels horrible about it. She should spend more time with her son, and she wishes that she could. If she can't make time to read to Bailey, how the hell can she make time for a third baby?

"Earlier when I was singing in the car Momma said I gots to stop 'cause she had a headache, does that mean she gots cancer?!" Zola suddenly asks, sounding terrified, and Meredith is sure her heart stops for a minute.

Thankfully, Amelia is able to smile and shake her head, "No, sweetie. Sometimes grown-ups get headaches for lots of reasons, and not just cancer. Besides, there are lots of other symptoms that you have to have, too."

"Like what?" Zola is clearly intrigued. Why must it be cancer that intrigues her? Of all things. Why can't it be the common cold? Or something else less life threatening? Something less morbid?

She truly is her parents' child.

"Uh, well," Meredith sighs, "like your Uncle Alex said, it depends on the type of cancer… tummy aches can be a sign of some cancers…"

And she's just unintentionally opened a can of worms.

"Oh, no, Mommy! You gots a tummy ache at my birthday. Does that mean you gots cancer?!"

Meredith moans when Alex and Maggie glare at her; she wonders if Maggie has overheard the rumors about her going around the nurses' station. Just what she needs. "No, Zola, Mommy ate too much pizza. That's why she had a tummy ache."

Alex crinkles his forehead.

"Oh," Zola frowns. "But if not alls simmons mean cancer, how do you knows for sure?"

"Well, you have to run lots of tests, Zola," Amelia explains softly. "If you have headaches, tummy aches or feel tired or feel sick at all, you should tell your doctor - or your mommy - and we'll run all the tests we have to find out what's wrong."

"Oh noes, what if Bay gots cancer?!" Zola immediately points to Bailey, whose head has collapsed into his barely-eaten slice of pizza. Of course his head is covered in pizza sauce, too.

"Bailey has an ear infection and he's teething, so Uncle Alex gave him medicine that makes him sleepy," Alex explains, glancing at Meredith.

"And it's working like a charm," Meredith sighs, grateful but also disgusted by her son's pizza covered face. She stands up, ready to find a rag to wash off the sauce, but Amelia stops her.

"Sit down, I've got him," insists Amelia. Meredith is forever grateful for her sister-in-law's help tonight.

After Amelia wipes Bailey down, she takes him up to his room and puts him to bed, so he's able to sleep in silence. Hopefully he'll stay there all night.

Maggie helps Amelia round up the dishes to put them in the sink while Zola curls up on the floor with her new stuffed unicorn. Meredith steals a cookie from the cookie jar, since there were only two slices of cake left and Alex and Zola ate them both.

When she looks back at Zola, she's already conked out on the floor, snuggling her stuffed unicorn. The sugar coma hit her hard and fast.

Meredith smirks at Alex. "What'd you do? Put a dog costume of your alma mater on a stuffed unicorn?" she teases, trying to lighten the tense mood.

"Oh, hush, she loves it," Alex rolls his eyes. And then his eyes fill with wary concern. "What's going on with you, Mer? Something seems off about you."

"Uh, nothing's going on with me…" Meredith stumbles for words.

Alex clearly reads right through her. "Oh, shut up. I can read right through you. Seriously? Zola said you were complaining of headaches and you had a stomachache at her birthday, and you and I both know that you ran to bathroom to puke. And that cookie is all I've seen you eat since I've been here. And since when do you drink apple juice?"

Meredith sighs in defeat. "Okay, I think I just have a touch of what Bailey had. You know kids and their contagious germs."

"Bailey wasn't throwing up…"

"Alex, shut it. You're making a big deal out of nothing," she snaps fiercely, louder than she expected to, though her sleeping daughter doesn't stir.

Alex sighs obnoxiously. "Okay, Mer. Whatever you say." He eyes the little girl on the floor. "Should we take her to bed?"

"She's getting so heavy," Meredith sighs, remembering Connie's warnings. Her back is sore from carrying Bailey so much last night and today.

"I can carry her to bed," Alex offers, bending over and gently lifting up Zola. He disappears up the stairs with her when Amelia's pager goes off.

"Crap!" Meredith and Amelia both shout at the same time. Meredith looks around the room for her pager, wondering if it's Beth.

Amelia looks at her pager before Meredith can find hers. "It's not Beth," Amelia assures, a sense of relief present in her voice. "It's another pile up. People really freaking need to learn how to drive during the winter." Amelia frowns, looking almost guilty. "Are you going to be okay?"

"They're both asleep. I should be good tonight," Meredith replies.

"They were both asleep last night, too, when I left," Amelia reminds her.

"You should go, Amelia. You have lives to save. They're my kids, my responsibility," Meredith insists, and Amelia nods leerily, then tells Maggie goodbye. She grabs her coat and leaves just as Alex is walking down the stairs.

"Where'd Shepherdess go?" Alex questions, looking back and forth between the two remaining women.

"She got paged," Maggie answers. "Speaking of which, I should probably get going. I have some patients I'd like to check on before I go home for the night."

Meredith doesn't really know how to respond, so all she says is, "Thanks for coming."

"Yeah, no problem. Thanks for having me," Maggie smiles a little awkwardly and she, too, soon disappears.

Now it's just her and Alex, and the look on Alex's face tells her he wants to drill her.

"Mer…"

"Alex, save it. If there was something I wanted to tell you, I would tell you. Anyway, you should go spend time with Jo. She's already seething with jealousy because of our friendship, right? I can see it in her eyes. Just because my relationship is in shambles, doesn't mean I want to be the reason yours falls apart."

"Okay, no need for the speech. I was just gonna say I have to go," Alex responds, harshness evident in his voice.

"Oh," Meredith frowns, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Thanks for the pizza." Alex grabs his coat and storms out the door before she can utter a "You're welcome."

She's a pro at pushing people away.

* * *

><p>The demonstrations come to an end, and Derek is left to fend for himself. He grabs take-out and then takes a cab to his apartment. Alone.<p>

Derek feels cold. He knows it's winter, and it's supposed to be cold, but the cold in his soul seems impossible to warm up.

He's so tired he almost fell asleep while eating dinner, but his soul can't find any rest, there's no peace for him in DC except in those cool machines.

There are a dozen new machines they have purchased that he needs to try out, but the coolest of the bunch is the one that reads emotions. It's different from the one he tried out with Callie, though. It's a lot more advanced, because it not only lights up the pleasure centers in the brain, it can actually interpret and time emotions. He would love to have Meredith under that machine once in a while, maybe he could understand some of her decisions, for once.

There's an even cooler machine he would love to use with Meredith, though he knows it's way too soon to even think about using it. Basically, it's a belt that once is put around a pregnant belly can memorize the kicks and transfer the data to another similar belt, that way the person who isn't pregnant can feel the baby kick just like the mom, in the exact same spot.

His mind drifts, wondering if this baby too might become a little soccer player like Bailey had been.

He can hear the buzz of the city, awake even when he's half-asleep, lit up and dazzling even when he feels like going to sleep and never getting out of bed for the entire duration of his NIH contract.

There's silence though, that's for sure. No Zola bickering over toys or Bailey screaming at the top of his lungs, no patients talking his ears off, no Meredith shouting in his face how much of a failure he is as a husband and father.

And yet he'd take Meredith pissed at him over the deafening silence of his apartment.

The place, as nice as it is, feels haunted. Haunted by people that are on the other side of the country, people he hopes are missing him at least half as much as he's missing them.

He leaves his lone dish in the sink, not bothering to clean it up since he has dishes for an entire week before he needs clean ones, then he puts on his pajamas and slips between the sheets.

The cold wraps around him, chokes him, makes him shiver.

He wants to go home.

He wants to hear Zola laugh again as she eats her breakfast and teases him because he didn't stick out his pinkie while they had a tea party. He wants to have Bailey's little body slam against his legs as soon as he gets home, his sticky hands smearing his shirts and sweaters and warming up his soul. He wants to see Meredith, hear her voice and her giggle and her laugh. He wants to hold her and smell her hair and touch her belly.

He settles for switching on the TV instead.

He quickly changes the channel from the news one he has left it the last time, looking for something really boring to make his brain stop swirling; this time he knows that not even the monotone voice of the anchorman will lull him to rest.

First he looks for a moment at those stupid infomercial about some kind of gym equipment for incredible abs, which reminds him that maybe he should find a gym to kill some time, make the nights less lonely. He still enjoys the knives commercial better though, especially those where the cook slays frozen peas or old boots to test the blades.

On the next channel there's a TV show, and he changes the channel as soon as he sees scrubs and a protagonist that vaguely looks like his wife. They barely have time to walk down a hallway before the TV is on a reality show. Commercial. Movie promotion. Commercial. Stupid infomercial with an overly happy couple who can solve all their problems by simply ordering a bed with different temperatures regulators. Crap talk-show. News. He switches on his laptop, opens Skype -who knows, maybe one of his colleagues might need to find him and pull him out of his misery-, watches one more commercial on a different channel.

He almost switches off the TV, then a cooking show comes on, with kids putting together incredible plates, things he doesn't have any idea how to make; yet, those kids can make them and the judges are able to even find a way to criticize them.

He closes his eyes for a moment, Zola appearing behind his eyelids. She has an apron and she's smiling so widely he can see all her teeth. She looks a little older as she stirs something in a bowl, a smear of flour on her cheek, a glint in her eyes. She looks like a professional. He wouldn't mind having a chef daughter, really.

Then a boy that looks a lot like Bailey appears in his dream. All his baby features are gone and he's pretty steady on his feet when he playfully pushes his sister. His hair is longer, styled much like his, only honey-colored like Meredith's. Bailey has her smile.

His daydream suddenly fills him with even more warmth as Meredith appears in the frame, her cheeks rosy, her grin large and open, a sling tied around her torso, a tiny hand peeking from the fabric and gripping her shirt as she stops the squabble before it even begins. She looks down at the creature in the sling with so much love Derek has to open his eyes.

He tightens the covers around him, but the cold in his heart is still there. Work was a nightmare of budget reports and endless meetings, cool machines or not, and he just wants to snuggle with his wife, tell her all about it, hear her own version of the day and hoping it's less boring than his. At the moment simply hearing her voice would be enough.

Instead he's stuck watching one more cooking show - without kids this time - and listening to the woman on screen talking about the vegetables that could be more cooked or the meat that could be more 'saucy'; the only saucy thing he can think of is not the steak, it's Meredith's smirk.

He sighs deeply, his eyes closing again to picture that exact smirk and savor it, let the memory linger on his tongue like the tastiest food, ignoring the emptiness all around him.

He feels a little less lonely when his phone chimes, signaling an incoming call. He's both elated and terrified when he sees the caller, yet he has a smile on his face as he clicks 'Answer'.

* * *

><p>Silence. It's finally silent. Her ears ring as they adjust to the new-found silence. After three days on the go, though, it's a much needed, much appreciated form of quietness.<p>

She takes a moment just to breathe, before she grabs her old ratty Dartmouth sweatshirt that she hasn't worn in years and a pair of grey sweats and goes into the bathroom.

Surprisingly, she feels good. Almost too good for someone who'd been up all night with a crying baby the night before and puked three times in one day. She feels one hundred percent alert.

Though she does have to pee.

She relieves the pressure weighing down her bladder and stares at her undies to find no residue, and for the first time since she found out she was pregnant, she's relieved. She's truly relieved. Still crouching on the toilet, her hand hovers over her flat belly. She still can't picture it growing round and pumpkin-shaped like it had with Bailey. And she still can't picture a third child's picture on her refrigerator. She can't picture any of that.

At the same time, she feels sick even thinking about the possibility of miscarrying again; the cramps, the blood, it all terrifies her more than she would ever admit to anyone. The thought alone is nauseating.

Maybe having another baby won't be the worst thing in the world, after all.

After she flushes the toilet, she starts rummaging through her medicine cabinet. She knows they're there somewhere. Bottles of Ibuprofen, Tylenol, Advil, Tums, and Aleve come to her fingertips. She knows she had some left from Bailey's pregnancy. _There_. Her fingertips crawl over the bottle that she's looking for.

There is only about a week and a half's worth left of tablets remaining in the bottle.

She curls her lip under her top teeth as she empties one of the prenatal vitamins into her hand. If she's going to have another baby, she wants him or her to be healthy. Just because she doesn't want another baby right now, doesn't mean she doesn't want her baby to be as healthy as she or he can be.

So she swallows a vitamin, then proceeds to take a shower.

Usually she takes her time when the kids are asleep but tonight she just wants to wash away the grime of the day, the leftover yucky feeling caused by a sweaty baby sleeping on top of her the whole night and one round too many of vomiting. The only moment she stops and lets the water cascade down her body is when her eyes land on her bare stomach. She can't see any roundness and she thanks the heavens for that, but she knows there's a blob with half of Derek's DNA growing there.

She feels so alone she'd like to cry, but she stops herself. There's nothing she can say to undo what has been said and done already, she needs to accept that.

She traces her fading appendectomy scar, her fingertips moving over the scar of the c-section, slowly going over every fading stitch, shuddering as she remembers the fact that she almost croaked the last time she was pregnant. And the time before that she offered herself to a gunman. She doesn't have the best track record.

She lets the water wash away some of her worries, though they linger under the surface. The steam eases her breaths and tiredness starts to sweep into her bones.

She basks in the lingering warmth of the shower as she dries her skin and bundles up in her Dartmouth sweater, remembering how much Derek loves all her Dartmouth-branded apparel, sighing deeply as she blow-dries her hair. She barely combs it, letting it tumble in soft waves, still a little damp at the ends. She doesn't need to impress anyone, and she'll have her hair up for most of the day in the morning, who cares about styling.

She flops on the bed, then snuggles under the covers, suddenly chilled up to the bone as she turns towards the empty space on her right side. She takes a deep breath and swallows the lump in her throat, turning her back to the emptiness, facing her nightstand.

She spots her iPhone next to the alarm clock and she feels the urge to call Derek and pretend that the spot next to her is not empty. She wants to hear his voice whisper in her ear, feel his words lull her into a deep, restoring sleep. And yet, he's not there and the void gnaws at her soul.

She stands up, suddenly restless, and goes to check on the kids. Both of them are asleep, only their deep breaths filling the eerie silence of her house.

When she goes back to her bedroom she stares for a long time at the empty bed, the messy sheets, the mess all around. Not one thing in her life is as it should be, not even her house.

She feels the immense urge to apologize to Derek. Or at least check on him, see if he made it all in one piece to DC. Carolyn told her they did, but actually hearing his voice would be even better.

She gives in when her phone buzzes from a text. She lays back on the bed and reads the goodnight text Carolyn has sent her. She kept in contact with her mother-in-law during the day, to give her updates about Bailey, and she's happy he is now feeling better.

She quickly types back a goodnight in reply, then her finger hovers over Derek's name. He's the last person she has texted before Carolyn.

She presses the call button before she can backtrack and she holds her breath as it rings once, twice, three times.

It can still go to voicemail. Voicemail would be perfect.

"Hello?"

Derek's soft, tired greeting makes her eyes water. Her breath quickens at the relief she feels in hearing his voice, and she's so glad to hear Derek that she even forgets to reply.

"Hello? Zola, is that you stealing Mommy's phone?"

Meredith cracks a smile at that. "It's me," she says, and it ends up being a lot more croaky than she remembered her voice to be.

"Hi," he says quietly, almost wary of what's coming.

"How," she gulps, the whole moment surreal. "How was the flight? I saw the news of a storm in the Midwest and..."

"We were delayed. I basically went straight to my meeting after taking Mom to the station." There's the weariness of the day clinging to his sentence as he speaks, and she wants to hug him and squeeze away everything, spoon him and rest with him until morning, but the phone has to do.

"Did your mother get home okay?" She asks, even if she knows, anything to have him speak more.

"She did. I bet she's already busy with the grandkids."

Meredith cracks a smile, but it dims as the silence grows between them. They can hear the other breathe, and there are so many unresolved issues the call feels already monumental.

"How was your day?" She wants to know more, even if it hurts, even if she's scared the question might turn around and she'll have to reveal her secret longing.

"Long. And lonely." His voice is small, vulnerable, sad. She kicked him to the curb and he's still licking his wounds. She bites her lip not to cry. "And I still haven't learned the name of the guy I share a wall of my office with."

Meredith lets out a nervous giggle that Derek mimics. "I haven't done the dishes; we can both be ashamed tonight."

The silence thickens and she knows the dishes are the last thing she should be ashamed of.

"Look, -"

"Wanna do them together? I still have mine in the sink."

Meredith is a little taken aback by that, but she accepts. The mere idea of knowing that he's on the other end of the phone, even quietly washing his dishes, is enough to make her feel more relaxed, and she's still too wired up to sleep at this point.

She goes to the kitchen and puts the phone on speaker, she listens to Derek pile up things in the sink, tap at the phone to put the speaker on as well while she opens the faucet and waits for the warm water to fill it.

"We finished all your pizza tonight," she says quietly, smiling. "Bailey fell asleep with his face on his slice."

Derek chuckles, and she can picture him standing in front of the sink (is it granite like the one they have home? Steel? She has no clue), his shoulder blades peeking from his t-shirt as he scrubs the dishes and the pots and pans and whatever he used to make dinner tonight. She wants to reach out and rub his back, but he's not there. She can pretend he's there if she could feel his warmth behind her as she picks up the first dish of the small pile.

"You have a picture of that, right?"

"I don't know if I have it or maybe Amelia or Alex have taken it. I'll check that later, but if I have I'll send it to you."

"Alex came over?" She can hear his resentment even through the splashing of the water.

"I invited him and Maggie to finish the pizza. Callie couldn't come."

"Oh," his whisper softens, a glass clings on his end of the conversation, and they're stalling again. She knows he has questions he'll never ask, and she's still not sure what she has with Maggie to explain it to him. Silence has to do.

She hears him close the cabinet and it both makes her smile and breaks her heart.

"I'm done," he says, but she already knew.

"What did you have for dinner?"

"Chinese take-out." She feels the stab right in her chest. Derek cooks, he always bashes takeout, because it's unhealthy and 'cooking is fun'. She hopes she didn't deny him the joys of cooking as well.

She rinses the glasses as they share another moment of quiet, and she can hear a door open and close. Maybe he's on the couch now, or in bed. She can feel that he's not in the kitchen anymore.

"Is pizza still making you nauseous?" His question is tentative, barely audible over the water, and she's pretty sure that with all the shifting and fizzling he's either changing or he's switching off the speaker.

"A little. But salad is fine. I'll eat salad." _As long as there's no lasagna in sight_. He chuckles at her answer, and things ease up a little, at least for a moment. "I also started with the prenatal vitamins. I had some leftover from Bailey, but I'll ask Connie for a refill tomorrow."

"Good, that's good." He lets out a deep breath that sounds relieved. "I know that I'm here and you're in Seattle, and I can't do much from here, but if you ever need to call me, call. Even if we fought before or I yelled, please call."

Her heart flutters at the plea in his tone, the helplessness. "I will. I promise." She hears him sigh, deeply. "I'm not spotting anymore, either."

"Really?" His tone is somewhere between happy and disbelieved and she wishes she could just see his eyes. She understands so much from his eyes, she feels a little lost now without that guidance.

"I'll be fine. We'll be fine." Her heart flutters at the plural she uses. She can feel it hammer through her chest.

He hums, and he knows she can't promise him more than that, even though she's trying. She's tired of empty promises, she doesn't want to make them - or hear them - anymore.

She rinses the last glass and the last plate, leaving them on the sink to dry. Who cares about drying them, they can dry on their own, she wants to lie down and let Derek's voice soothe her loneliness.

She picks up her phone and goes back to her bedroom, snuggling with the cold comforter once again. She takes a deep breath, resting the phone close to her face, so that she can pretend Derek is there.

She closes her eyes, listens to him breathe.

"You know, I had a budget meeting about the fanciest machines today, you would love them." His voice tinges with excitement, and she can almost see his eyes sparkle behind her eyelids.

"Really?" Her tone is soft, interested, lighter than it has ever been during this conversation.

He hums. "They are so much better than the one I used on Callie. I can't wait to try them out."

"That's great, Derek." The smile that stretches on her lips is genuine, and she wouldn't bother hiding it even if he were there, next to her. She can picture his profile there, as they make small talk at night. It's comforting to know that they can still do that, even if they're mad and on two opposite ends of the country.

"I also saw the cutest little girl today on the subway," he continues, almost as if it were a tale, telling her all about the girls' antics, until he asks: "There are no redheads in your side of the family, right?"

"What?" she frowns, a little dazzled by the subject shift. "I don't think so, why is that relevant?"

"Just...wondering. I had a ginger aunt on my dad's side."

Her heart clenches. He's picturing the blob in her uterus as a full-fledged human being, with red hair and possibly her giggle, and she can't take it anymore. Everything comes crashing down on her.

"I'm sorry," she blubbers, her voice cracking. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Mere." His whisper wraps around her, and she feels tears in her eyes again. She curls up into a tight ball, trying to keep the tears inside, to restrain the sobs, but she can't help the sniffle that escapes her nose. "Please, don't cry."

"I was a bitch to you, Derek. I was mean and angry and I pushed you away." Another sniffle. "And Zola was clinging to your leg! What the hell was I thinking?"

"Mer, -"

"No, Derek, I was right in sending you back, but not the way I did it. That was…"

"Harsh."

"Horrible, Derek. I was horrible to you." Her grave whisper blends in the sheets as she clutches them tightly into her fist.

"Meredith, I wanted to stay with you and the kids. You barely let me have a word in. I just…"

"I lied when I said we don't need you here. We do. Because Zola was missing you and Bailey was sick, and -"

"Bailey is sick?! We've been on the phone this long and you are just telling me this now?"

She can't stop the tears anymore as she feels the shame creep up on her cheeks.

* * *

><p>Derek gulps, unable to keep his anger from flaring up. His little boy was sick and she didn't say anything. Bailey is more than alive, what if something happens to the baby still inside her, what then? Will she ever tell him? The mere thought sends him spiraling down the rabbit hole.<p>

"He was just teething, and he caught an ear infection. He wasn't dying!"

"Meredith, why do you always keep things from me? How am I supposed to trust you with anything you're saying?"

"I don't know? Maybe because I didn't mention it right away because Bailey is beyond okay? You did lie about Zola's stomach bug when I was taking my boards, how was I supposed to trust you, then?"

Her voice raises, and he takes a deep breath as well. He doesn't want to fight with her about this too. He's too tired to fight tonight, he just wants to hear her voice and talk to her and ignore the fact that they can't trust one another.

"Is Bails doing better now?" he asks, trying to lower his voice, to let the anger disappear. It seems to work.

Meredith sighs loudly. "He slept most of the day, but Alex gave him Tylenol and amoxicillin, so his fever is almost gone and he looks better."

He takes a relieved breath. "Poor boy."

"Derek, he barely slept last night, I barely slept because he was on top of me all night long, I just...Sorry if I didn't mention it right away, I just wanted to hear your voice first, before the drama and the crap."

His heart squeezes for his wife. He has yearned for her voice, it's not like he can blame her for postponing the bad news.

The other line doesn't stay quiet for long, because he can hear some muffled voices and shuffles and he's pretty sure he can hear the non-whispers of his four-year-old daughter.

"Derek," Meredith's voice is clear again, though she's probably helping Zola on her bed or leading her back to her bedroom. "Do you have your laptop nearby? Zola woke up and she would like to say hello."

He grins. "It's right here, call me when you're all set up."

Meredith hangs up and he self-consciously checks his surroundings for telltale objects that scream that he's lonely and bored and sad. The coast seems clear.

By the time he has gone over every inch of his room visible from the webcam, his laptop screen is blinking and chiming, and he's ready to click "Answer".

His face splits in a grin.

Zola is smiling at him and waving hello, her pajamas wrinkled, an unknown rainbow unicorn in an Iowa jersey under her armpit as he sees Meredith curl an arm around her and lay back against the headboard. He will have to ask about the unicorn someday.

He can't help but stare at his girls for a beat.

"Daddy!" Zola squeals.

"Shh, be quiet," Meredith whispers, moving her face closer to hers. "People are sleeping already."

"I'm not. I'm big now."

Derek giggles, and so does Meredith. "Sweetie, even big people sleep at night," he says to her, though Zola doesn't look much convinced.

"Daddy, did you steal Auntie Amy's surgery? 'cause today Bails stole my toys and my mommy and she told me that she useded to steal all your toys too because she was the littlester, but now you steal her surgeries as peeback."

Derek grins at her small ramble, though he tries to save his honor. "I don't steal surgeries from your auntie."

"Good, 'cause stealing's not nice, Daddy. Not nice at all. Mommy gots really upset with Bails, though he had a…" she gulps, frowning adorably, then turning her face towards Meredith. "What was it, Momma?"

"A get out of jail free card?" Meredith replies amused, tucking back a rebel curl and pulling Zola close.

"That card. How come we say that, Momma?"

"I think it comes from the game Monopoly? I don't know, Lovebug."

Derek watches fascinated the exchange between his wife and daughter, grateful that he can see them, and not just hear their voices now.

"Anyway Daddy, Bails got a fever and he was all yucky and gross and he fell asleep with his face in the pizza 'cause the medicine Uncle Alex gave him makes him sleepy." Zola giggles.

"Really?" Derek fakes surprise, which makes Zola's eyes widen further, and launches her in a play-by-play of the day.

"You met Beth?" he asks in the middle of one of her rambles and she nods eagerly.

"We admitted her. She had a seizure." Meredith cuts in the conversation, her glassy eyes speaking more that what she can't say in front of Zola.

"She's so fun! But she gots cancer."

Derek wonders if Zola even knows what cancer is. He hopes he won't have to crush Zola's heart if she loses Beth so soon after meeting her. "Are you running more tests?" he asks Meredith, hoping that Zola would just tune them out.

"You need tests to say if it's cancer or not, that's what Auntie Amy telled me!"

Derek gulps. Zola can't possibly understand what cancer is, did they discuss it with her? He doesn't like the idea one bit.

"Yes, we're waiting for the results." Meredith replies, pulling Zola just a little closer, and he can't blame her. "Remember to send Amelia the trial notes, she told me you forgot."

"_Crabs_, I did!" he grimaces, eying his desk and the stack of notes he has taken out of his briefcase.

He's a mess.

Zola starts talking again about Bailey throwing a sippy cup, and Derek listens to her with half an ear, his mind drifting a little, too focused on studying his girls on screen and their perfection to see beyond that. He's a mess, but they are one of the few good things standing. He can't ruin that.

Both he and Meredith are letting Zola lead the conversation, their minds busy, working without a pause, until the little girl yawns loudly and interrupts their moment.

"I think it's time for bed, Zozo," Meredith says quietly, kissing her temple.

Zola pouts. "No, I don't want to say no goodbye to Daddy."

Derek's heart break. He doesn't want to leave his girls either. He can already sense the overwhelming loneliness if he ends the call.

"What about I tell you a goodnight story?" he asks, trying to stretch their moment together, even if just for a beat longer.

Zola's eyes light up, and she's settled all over Meredith, laying down and tucking both her and Meredith under the covers before Meredith can say no. Her face tells him she wouldn't have said no even without the charade.

The three of them settle in more comfortable positions, Meredith curling up around Zola, her arms wrapped around her little body as they share a pillow and place him on his side of the bed. Derek does the same, putting his family on the side of the bed they should be if they were right beside him, his cheek on the pillow.

Derek starts the story, and he sees Meredith close her eyes. If Zola wasn't watching him so attentively, he's sure he would do the same. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine to be there with them, and he can't blame his wife for trying to recreate the magic.

He measures his words slowly as he starts making up a story from scratch, Zola likes those more than she likes books now that she's getting older, and she has a lot of fun imagining the characters he can come up with. Her favorite tale is the one about the Emperor Penguin who's in fact anything but an emperor and gets caught up in all kinds of messes in the South Pole, so tonight he's playing it safe by having the penguin hop around the ice pack, looking for some food to eat and stumbling upon all kinds of adventures.

Zola's eyes widen and she gasps in all the right places, her giggle soft and heartwarming whenever it comes out of her lips, her sleepy eyes not willing to close just yet. Meredith's though have been closed for a while, and he's glad she's sleeping. He rushes a little to the end when he sees Zola yawn again, though she doesn't mind it.

"Shh, Mommy is asleep already," he says, smiling brightly.

Zola shifts around to check on that, then she resettles in Meredith's hold when she tightens her arms around her smaller body.

"She is! We're going to be quiet penguins now."

"We are." Derek grins at his daughter. "Close your eyes too, sweetie."

"But you'll disappear, Daddy!"

"I won't. I might not be there holding you and Mommy tonight, but it doesn't mean I don't want to be there. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"That's not soon enough." Zola sighs, breaking his heart when her lips curl down.

"You have Mommy with you, and you can always call me and we can tell more stories."

"Every night?"

"We can do that."

"Oh Daddy, that would be perfect."

Derek chuckles at her melodramatic tone, though it wraps around his heart and holds it together. "Go to sleep now."

"Night, Daddy."

"Goodnight, Lovebug. Kiss your Mama good morning for me tomorrow, alright?"

"On the lips?" she asks, giggling. He wishes he could tickle her right about now.

"Wherever you like. She needs lots of hugs and kisses now that I'm not there. You and Bailey should give her all the hugs I would give her if I were there."

"Daddy, do you hug Mama lots when you surgeon people and I'm in daycare?"

Derek tries not to burst into laughter. "Lots and lots." It's a white lie, but she doesn't need to know that. Zola needs her innocence.

"Good. So I'll hug Mama lots and lots."

"Thank you, Zozo. I love you so much."

"Me too, Daddy."

She blows him a kiss before she turns around a little and buries her nose into the crook of Meredith's elbow, nuzzling her face there as Meredith grunts something but doesn't wake up.

It's barely a few minutes later when both Zola and Meredith are asleep, their light snoring filling his bedroom, their faces ethereal and finally both content. He could watch his girls sleep for the rest of the night, if he weren't so tired.

He feels his eyes droop, and doesn't bother to close the conversation. He leaves up his laptop, pretending to be there, though he feels the immense void in his arms. His eyes close and his mind drifts off to sleep out of his volition.

He can't wait to be home.

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><p><strong>Irene's AN: So, that's it for 2014, see you on the other side! I hope you enjoyed the somewhat happier note we left you on. Thank you for staying with us until now, we promise there's a lot of stuff that we have planned for 2015, so don't despair!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Nicole's A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of 2015! We weren't going to post until Thursday, but we thought we'd give it to you early since so many, myself included, are trapped inside today. This is for all of you who are confined to your homes because of winter storms, sickness, floods, and/or other natural disasters and have nothing better to do other than read fanfic. What a lovely way to start 2015, right? Reviews would definitely cheer me up, since it is my birthday Friday and all. ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

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><p><em>He can't wait to be home.<em>

Those thoughts reverberate in his head over and over again during the passing days. Ten days drift by. He's ten days closer to the end of his NIH contract; he's ten days closer to being home.

It's sure been a long ten days.

The morning after his first Skype call with Zola and Meredith, he woke to a blank screen. Of course his internet connection had dropped while he dreamed of being home again, disconnecting him from snoring Zola and Meredith - Zola's snores were nearly as vibrant as her mother's. He tapped the mouse, tempted to call Meredith again, replaying their conversation in his head, and then he pictured the last image of his wife and daughter, recalling how beautiful Meredith and Zola looked when they slept.

It was seven a.m., so that meant it was only four in the morning in Seattle. Damn timezones. He'd withheld the urge to call her, proceeding to go about his morning routine.

He was just about to walk out the door when his laptop, still propped up, started playing the Skype call sound. It was Zola, and soon he'd heard Meredith's voice. He'd chatted with them only briefly, explaining that he had to get to work. Though, it'd made his morning all the more brighter, simply seeing their faces had an wonderful positive effect on his mood. He'd even caught a glimpse of Bailey, who was still groggy from his medications. Meredith reminded him to fax Amelia the trial notes, and told him that she'd call him later after dropping Zola off at daycare. She'd called a sitter to stay with Bailey, since his fever hadn't been gone for twenty-four hours.

Derek faxed Amelia the notes the minute he got to work, before he was bombarded by phone calls, emails, and more paperwork. Meredith kept her promise and called him during her lunch hour. She updated him on Beth's condition, explaining that she'd been admitted the night before for observation after having a seizure and had gone all night without a seizure, so they were releasing her. Amelia planned to try a round of chemo, monitoring the tumor closely, hoping it will shrink.

While Derek understood Amelia's reasoning, he didn't think it was the best option for Beth, especially if her tumor was growing as rapidly as Meredith and Amelia made it sound it was. He asked Meredith to email him her latest scans, and she did.

Those scans only confirmed his theory. The tumor is growing too fast for chemo. He picked up the phone to call Amelia but then stopped himself. Beth is Amelia's patient now, and there isn't anything he can do from DC.

When two days passed and he didn't hear from Amelia, not even a thank you for sending the notes, he took the initiative to finally call her. He apologized for being an ass, and she seemed to accept his apology. He explained that Meredith was keeping him in the loop, and Amelia said that Meredith had mentioned that, since they were working Beth's case together. He asked if Amelia truly thought chemo was the best option, and Amelia had admitted that it was not. She was in the process of thoroughly examining the notes with Meredith, though, and together she hoped they could come up with a better plan of action to save Beth.

Derek's life gradually slips into a daily routine. His mornings consist of showering, eating a light breakfast, and then talking to Meredith, Zola, Bailey, and sometimes Amelia, if she is home, for about ten minutes before he needs to leave for work. Their morning conversations are brief, since Meredith and the kids are just waking up and he needs to get to work.

He calls Meredith whenever he has a free moment, always during lunch time, and other times when he is sitting in his office alone, staring blankly at the family photos on his desk, missing her. Sometimes she answers, other times she doesn't. When she doesn't, he worries. Sometimes he will call Amelia, using Beth's case as an excuse to talk, just to make sure Meredith isn't alone somewhere miscarrying. He's pretty sure Amelia has caught onto his true concerns.

Truthfully, he's become slightly obsessed with Beth's case. He often finds himself reading over his own notes, devising plans to suggest to Amelia. He emails her daily with ideas. Beth is his only surgical case, plus she's a VIP patient. He can't give up on her.

For dinner, he's made a habit of eating carry out, that way he doesn't have to cook. It's not that he's lost his love for cooking; it's just hard to cook for one person.

He has made a habit of calling his mother every night when he gets home. Meredith isn't home yet, since it's only four or five in Seattle when he gets home, so he talks to his mother. His mother tells him about her day, the cute things his nieces and nephews have done or their latest achievements, and sometimes he'll tell her about the new machines he's been working with, even though he knows it must sound like nonsense to her. She's raised five doctors. She's used to medical nonsense, though she was a Navy Nurse so some of it probably makes sense.

Meredith at least comprehends his neuroscience rambles. Actually, she seems genuinely interested in what he has to say, though sometimes he wonders if she's just pretending to make him feel better. Sometimes she'll even pitch ideas back to him.

They talk every evening, sometimes until three in the morning his time, midnight hers. They're doing better, or at least it seems like they are. She's stopped snapping at him at random, and they haven't had an actual argument in days. Maybe his mother is right. Maybe they'll be alright after all.

He misses her and the kids so much, but at least he gets to hear their voices every day and night, and see their faces, even if they're on a computer screen. It's better than nothing. Being in DC has truly elevated his appreciation for modern technology.

This afternoon, he's at the Capitol Visitor Center, and all he can think about is his routine nightly Skype conversation with Meredith and the kids.

He wants to go home now and call her, but it's too early. It's only five p.m., so two p.m. in Seattle. Every time he looks at the clock, he makes a mental note of the time in Seattle, and he pictures what Meredith is doing. Right now, he pictures she's at the hospital, possibly in surgery. Or maybe she's on a break eating a late lunch in the cafeteria. He hopes the smell of whatever today's special is doesn't make her nauseous.

Derek has his phone in his hand as he walks up the hill toward the sidewalk, where he can wave a cab over. In the meantime, he scrolls to his recent contacts - mostly Meredith - ready to call her.

"Hey, Shepherd!" a voice calls behind him. He turns to see three NIH guys walking toward him. One of them is Barry - the guy who shares a wall with him. He's the guy who adopted his two-year-old daughter from Korea. Derek had managed to learn his name the day before last.

"Uh, hey." He feigns a smile, still holding onto his phone.

"We were going to go over to Capitol Lounge down the street. It's taco and margarita night. Want to come? You really can't beat dollar tacos and four and a half dollar margaritas." One of the guys gives him a friendly smile. His name is Dan. Derek recognizes him from their meetings. He's an accounting guru.

Derek grunts, trying to think of an excuse.

"What? Do you have a hot date or something?" the third guy asks in a joking tone. His name is Bryan. He works in the Communications & Public Liaison office at the NIH.

"Actually, yes. My wife," Derek replies tartly, not entirely sure how much Bryan knows about his life. He's never had an actual conversation with him, but he'd never had a conversation with Barry, either, before ten days ago, and Barry already knew his whole life story without any voluntary information from Derek.

"Oh? Is she coming to DC? Barry told me your family lives in Seattle," Bryan replies, and Derek's irritation boils. These NIH guys are about as bad as the Grey Sloan nurses when it comes to gossip. Maybe he's just being overly sensitive. Lately, it's seemed like everything pisses him off. Everything except Meredith and the kids. They're the only ones that can bring a smile to his face.

"Skype date," Derek curtly explains, trying to keep his cool.

"Aw, that's romantic," Bryan smiles; Derek senses sarcasm, but he avoids the remark.

"Come on, come out with us. It's not healthy to stay cooped up in your apartment every night. You have to live a little. You should enjoy DC while you're here. There is so much to see," Barry pleads with him, his smile sincere, and Derek knows Barry is probably right. Moving to DC has turned him into a hermit, as much as it pains him to admit. Maybe that's the root of his problem: He doesn't get out enough.

Derek sighs, feeling defeated. "Okay." A taco and a margarita wouldn't be the worst thing in the world right now, after all.

The Capitol Lounge is about a mile's walk from the Capitol, but it doesn't feel that long. Fortunately, it's a warmer February day, so it's not bitter cold like previous days have been. A mile's walk in DC is really nothing. For Derek, it feels good to stretch his legs, after having been stuck in meetings and behind desks and sitting in his apartment.

He listens to Bryan, Barry, and Dan discuss their meeting. Meanwhile, Derek's mind drifts to Meredith and the kids. He hopes he won't be out late, because he promised Zola they could talk every night. He's already broke enough promises to Meredith and the kids. He can't bear to break anymore promises to his family.

Instead of ordering the margarita special, Derek orders tequila. Straight tequila. He doesn't even like the taste of tequila, but he doesn't stop himself.

He needs to taste her, and tequila is the closest he has to her taste right now. Even though she can't drink tequila right at this moment.

Bryan guffaws after Derek orders his drink. "Dude, what's wrong with you? It's margarita night and you order just a basic ingredient. That's like ordering a cheeseburger with just ketchup. Who does that?"

Bryan is a few feet taller than Derek and strong-built. He has short dirty blond hair, crisp blue eyes, and a little stubble on the top of his lip. Some of his features remind Derek of Mark. However, Derek is not humored by Bryan's poking fun at his tequila. He manages to bite his tongue, though.

The bartender hands him the glass of tequila while they wait for the dozen tacos they've ordered. Barry and Bryan argue over who can eat the most tacos. Dan offers to be the referee. In the meantime, Derek squeezes the lime into the glass and stirs the drink with a straw, absorbing the fumes, thinking of Meredith. It's a scent he has smelled on her breath for years.

He begins to salivate as he visualizes kissing her, his tongue in her mouth, his hands on her waist. He pictures her throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him back. The fumes of tequila on her breath circle around him. He doesn't even like the taste of tequila, he never has, but the taste of it on her breath sends him to Cloud Nine.

"_You don't kiss someone by puckering your lips. You see someone and remember why you desire them." _His own words ring in head. Oh, how he longs to see her again. In person, not on a computer screen.

"Pretty sure you're not going to want to drink that through a straw," laughs Barry, interrupting Derek's fantasies. "My husband is a tequila drinker. He drinks it straight from the bottle. I don't know how. Personally, I think it numbs your taste buds."

"He probably can't taste it to know it's disgusting, then," Bryan teases.

Derek stares at the glass of tequila, he's pretty sure his eyes are glistening, and he says, "My wife likes tequila."

Bryan and Barry share a look with each other, and they both burst into laughter.

"Is that the reason you look so scared to take a sip?" Bryan chortles, which makes Derek cringe, fueling the vengeance in his veins.

He grips onto the glass and pours half the liquid down his throat. His entire body heats like a fireball is ripping through his throat, his insides on the verge of an explosion. Derek chokes as the bitter taste attacks his esophagus, his eyes water, sweat profusely drips down his forehead. How the hell does Meredith drink this crap?

All three men are laughing at him, which infuriates him even more. His stomach is bubbling, ready to boil over. He storms into the men's restroom, soon finding himself hugging the toilet, vomiting tequila, and recollecting how he'd held onto Meredith when she was in his current state. He'd massaged her back and held her hair as she'd emptied her entire stomach contents into their toilet at home, and then later into the lounge toilet at the hospital. It feels like yesterday, yet it's been ten days. He feels so sad knowing she's thrown up without him there to comfort her.

Now he feels like his wife.

He splashes cold water on his face, ravaging in the coolness, and then he takes his phone out of his pocket. He should call Meredith anyway, so she knows that he's out and doesn't know when he'll be home. He doesn't want her to worry, after all. She's under enough stress as it is.

Although he would gladly ditch Barry, Bryan, and Dan right at this moment. He can head home and be there in time to Skype with Meredith, Zola, and Bailey.

Right now, all he wants is to hear his wife's voice, so he enters a stall to make a phone call.

* * *

><p>Meredith can't believe it's been ten days since Derek has held her. It feels like a lifetime and a blink of the eye all the same.<p>

She rummages through her dresser, piling up on her bed a comfortable outfit for the rest of the day, ready to take a shower.

Bailey is napping, still a little fatigued after the days from hell they had with his teething, while Zola is contentedly amusing herself in the playroom, now big enough to just require a baby monitor for emergencies and not a constant watch.

Meredith sighs, switching on the microphone on both monitors for the kids, hearing Zola whisper something to her dolls as she has a tea party. Her voice quiets down Meredith's thoughts for a short beat.

She puts the pile of clothes in the bathroom, the monitors on top of it, then she strips out of her clothes, feeling bare and lonely.

She left work early, her shift a little shorter, but she was happy to be home because her patient had died and she knew a headache was looming over her head. The vomiting has slowed down in the past ten days, but every smell could be a trigger and she was exhausted. She could barely eat before everything came back up again, and doing that while running after two kids was anything but relaxing.

Her days have been long, with Beth always in the back of her mind even when she was working on something else, and hearing Derek's voice this morning wasn't enough for the entire day.

It's not even four in the afternoon, but Meredith feels like she could easily drop and sleep until morning. She has a long day ahead tomorrow, with a visit to Beth to discuss her latest test results to squeeze in between all her surgeries, and she just wants to curl up and sleep.

But her daughter is playing dress up in the next room, her son is going to need dinner in a couple of hours, and she has to be Mommy for a few hours longer.

Beth kept teasing her that she was just a pile of gooey mommy hormones, and sometimes she couldn't blame her. Beth felt somewhat like her third child, sometimes. _Fourth_.

Beth knows she's pregnant, and even her boyfriend Andrew probably knows by now. He's a sweet guy, a little dorky, a good sense of humor. He reminds her of Derek a little, or a younger version of Derek anyway. The first time she met him, she could see that he and Beth cared deeply for each other, but she didn't see the same spark in Beth that she had when she had met Jeremy.

Still, Andrew is a good guy, with his share of baggage.

Callie called him Cement Guy when they crossed paths in the hallway, and it was Bailey who revealed to her that he was the same guy that had been encased in cement the day they saved Beth's life. The coincidence seemed almost impossible, and yet, there they were.

Bailey told her he was a good guy, and Meredith wants to believe her. Bailey has been pretty helpful in the past few days, checking on her with her usual discretion, and Meredith figured out that someone -Derek- must have told her about the baby. Or she could have figured it out by herself, but honestly, she doesn't mind Bailey knowing. It's good to have her on her side. What makes her mad is the mere fact that Derek told her. Or she supposes he did.

That is only one reason why she should be mad at him, though. The insistent calling is surely more annoying. She gets the morning Skype call with the kids, and the one at night, but the four or five calls she finds on her phone during the day sometimes are a little too much.

Scratch that, she wants to pull her hair every time he checks up on her. Almost if she were miscarrying every five minutes and wouldn't tell him. She would tell him. Maybe not right away, because she'll be in shock and scared and lonely and she'll cry a lot, but she'll tell him.

He would not be able to do anything for her from DC anyway.

It's crazy how much that mere thought scares her to death.

She undresses, trying not to think about the blob in her uterus, despite it now makes her look a little like she could be on her period, and she slips into the shower to switch the water on. She puts her clothes in the hamper, not before checking for blood in her panties, and she doesn't know if she's relieved or not that there still isn't any.

It's crazy to think that she'd rather miscarry now since she's so scared, but seeing the odds this baby has, she wants the miscarriage to happen sooner rather than later, if it has to happen. She's already seven weeks along, and past eight weeks she's almost sure she would require a D&C. She doesn't want a D&C. She had one, and it left her sore and bleeding and scarred, not just in her body, but in her mind too. It was horrible, and she doesn't want to go through that again. That, and the fact that she doesn't have weeks to recover from it like she did when Derek was recovering from his GSW. They took care of each other back then, but now she has to take care of everybody. She doesn't have the luxury to be stuck in bed after a D&C. If it has to happen, the miscarriage needs to happen soon.

And then she feels guilty for even thinking it, because people know about the baby, some of them are even excited, and she will just crush their spirits. She can't imagine Derek's face this time around. It's still embedded in her brain the face he made when she told him the first time, and it's enough for a lifetime. She remembers his face, that night, when she climbed into bed and he simply looked at her, then cradled her in his arms and cried, rubbing her empty belly, trying to pull himself together.

When she pushed him to go to DC she was scared of the miscarriage, now she's terrified not only that she might miscarry, but that he won't be there to keep her - or their family - together.

She's not sure her marriage can survive a miscarriage now.

Everything was different then, they didn't have the kids when she miscarried their first baby, he was so doped up he was barely conscious, she spent hours crying at his bedside, ignoring the world and the eerily quiet hospital.

She can't fall apart now.

Except now she really feels like falling apart. Just for a few seconds. A moment. A few tears.

She hears Zola play, and Bailey breathing, still asleep, and she gives in.

The water drowns her first tear, mixing the two on her cheek, slowly slipping down the drain as she closes her eyes and puts her head under the spray.

Her first sob comes pouring out of her before she can stop it, her chest clenches, her belly clenches and she needs to lean against the shower wall when a second sob comes crashing through her like a wave.

Meredith wraps her arms around herself, feeling the loneliness, the emptiness, the space in her bed that the kids occupy when he calls, the empty chair at the table when they eat, the locked door of his office.

She cries because she doesn't have any fishing gear to wash, because no shirts need to be ironed, because there hasn't been muesli in his bowl in more than a week and yet muesli is the only thing she can stomach in the morning.

The tears come faster and her body starts swaying, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she tries not to howl, as she attempts to stop herself from crumbling.

She doesn't know what's keeping her upright, she has no idea, she could bet it's the kids, and yet, when she thinks about the blob in her uterus more tears are added to the pile.

She wants Derek, right now.

She wants him to hold her and tell her that everything will be okay, no matter what happens, that she's a good mom, that her marriage hasn't completely fallen apart.

Meredith curls up in a ball on the shower's floor and keeps yearning for Derek's arms to be wrapped around her body, her cheek on his shoulder, the smell of his cologne in her nostrils.

She just wants Derek.

Meredith takes a deep, shaky breath, and some of the tears subside as she tries to come up with a good memory, as she tries to trick herself into thinking that they are in fact okay. She needs to pretend for the tears to slow down.

And they do slow down when she thinks of his gentle and yet strong hugs, of the showers they have shared during the years, of his kisses in the hollow of her neck or the way his smile lights up whenever the kids do or say something funny.

It's pretend, but by the time her fingertips are wrinkled and the room is filled with steam, the tears are mostly gone. Yet, the sadness and loneliness in her heart is an open wound she doesn't know how to stitch up.

* * *

><p>Zola frowns when she hears strange sounds coming from the bathroom. Is her mama throwing up again? It happened a lot in the past few days and they never had pizza again.<p>

"You dollies stay put, I gotsa check on Mama," she whispers solemnly, before she stealthily tiptoes to the bathroom in her parents' bedroom, leaving her tea party behind.

The door is closed, so she puts her ear against it. She can barely hear the shower running, but she's determined to find out more. The sounds coming from inside are not like the sounds Mama makes when she throws up, so she's a little bit relieved, though her heart clenches in fear when she hears a low moan.

That is definitely a sound her mama makes when she throws up.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when Mama's phone rings on the nightstand and she's quick to go near it and see Daddy's smiling face blink on the screen.

She pushes the green button and her chest feels a little less tight. Daddy knows what to do.

"Meredith, hey." Daddy's voice is warm, soft, though there's noise in the back.

"Daddy," she says solemnly.

"Oh, Zola, hi. Where's Mommy?"

"She taking a shower," Zola mumbles. "I think Momma's throwing up again."

"Oh sweetie," her daddy sighs but it doesn't make her feel any better. A hug would make her feel a lot better, but phones can't hug. It's stupid really, to hear Daddy's voice but not being able to touch him or hug him or squeeze his cheeks.

"Daddy, I think Mama gots cancer."

She hears Daddy take a deep, deep breath, and she's even more scared now. Daddy is never scared. He knows things, he can't be scared.

"Zozo, Mama probably just has a stomach bug."

"No, Daddy," he's not being very smart right now. "She throwed up lots and she gots owies in her head and she sleeps lots. That are the simmons, Daddy."

"Okay, Zola, okay." Her daddy doesn't sound really okay. She doesn't like it one bit.

"Daddy, what if Momma is really, really sick?" The mere thought makes her heart squeeze. She wants to cry. Her mama can't die.

"We'll figure out something, okay?" Daddy sounds a little more sure, though she's not really sure herself. "How long has Mama been in the bathroom?"

"A while. I dunno, I played with my dollies, I dunno."

"Alright. Why are you guys at home already?"

"Mama gots a head owie. Oh, Daddy, that so not good," she whimpers, now actually scared. "Daddy, you gotsa come and make Mama all beder."

"Sweetie, I can't come there. You need to be a big girl and help Mama, okay?"

Zola sniffles. "I'm four."

"You are," and she feels proud when her daddy confirms it. "Is Bailey asleep?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Alright, now, remember when I told you which numbers you had to press when something really bad happened and you needed someone to rescue you?"

She panics. She can't remember. They were three, because she was three years old when he told her, and he made her put up her fingers to remember, but she can't remember now. It's an emergency and her mama is sick and she can't remember.

"Daddy, I can't!" she whimpers, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"It's okay, I'll tell you again. It's okay, baby girl." His words make her feel just a little bit better.

"Daddy, pwlease come."

"Zola, remember, press nine, then one, then one again." Daddy's voice is firm, but it shakes at the end.

And when he says that, it comes back to her. "I 'member now, Daddy! The one at the bottom and the one in the corner twice!"

"That's it. Nine -the one at the bottom- once, then press one -in the corner- two times."

"Daddy, but I have to stop calling you!" Her heart starts racing when she realizes that. She will be all alone, talking to a stranger. She can't do that. She can scream for Mama to be better, but she can't call someone on the phone without her Daddy there with her.

"Use the other phone, the one we only use in the house. You're such a brave girl, you can do it. "

Zola searches the whole living room for it in a speed race, and right when she finds it, her finger slips over the screen of Mommy's phone and the face of Daddy disappears in the dark.

"Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Daddy? Daddy where you goed?" she starts whimpering, crawling back towards the bathroom. She takes sharp, quick breaths, but she knows she needs to call the three numbers to save her mama.

"Mommy?" she knocks gently on the door. Maybe Mama is okay, she was just wrong. But her mommy doesn't answer. "Momma?" Still nothing. "Mama?"

* * *

><p>"Zozo?! Sweetheart, are you there?!" Derek asks frantically when he hears the deafening silence, and then the dial tone vibrates against his eardrum. She must have accidentally hung up.<p>

"Sweetheart, I'm right here," a high-pitched male's mocking tone interrupts his train of frantic, terrified thoughts. He storms out of the stall, where he finds Bryan standing by the sinks. A rush of frenetic rage rips through Derek's body. "Zozo - that's an odd pet name for your wife." There's a sly smirk on the man's face that pisses Derek off royally.

"I was talking to my daughter." Derek's voice is stale, his blood boils; it's none of Bryan's business anyway.

"Oh. I mean, that's an interesting name: Zozo," Bryan chortles, and before Derek can stop himself, he ambushes him, surprising even himself. His fist collides into Bryan's skull, sending the man across the bathroom floor. His head bangs against the sink. "Dude, what the hell?!" Bryan's head caves open, a splotch of red blood drizzles down his forehead. He's not unconscious, at least.

Derek doesn't have time to think about what he's done, though. He knows it was wrong to punch the guy, and he should offer to help. But Bryan was egging him on. He asked for it. Right now, Derek needs to know that Meredith is okay.

Woeful, devastating thoughts loom in his head. Zola said that Meredith had been in the shower for a long, long time. What if she was miscarrying? Or worse, what if she had passed out? Why does Zola think that Meredith has cancer? She's four years old, surely she wouldn't have come up with such a deathly conclusion on her own. What if she had overheard Amelia and Meredith talking?

He's tried to shake the strange elevator conversation with Owen, but it's there lurking in the back of his head, as if it could actually mean something that he doesn't want it to mean.

His thoughts circle with dreadful, endless possibilities.

He needs to call Zola back. She must be so scared. He needs to talk to her. He needs to be there for her, even if he can't be there physically.

* * *

><p>Zola huddles in front of the door, her back against the wood as she curls up in a ball, the phone with the numbers in her lap, Mommy's phone next to it. Her fingers press the number in the right bottom corner before she can call out for her mama again. She moves her shaky finger on the number at the top, seeing it appear on the little screen. She knows this number, it's a one; the same number Bailey had on his cake when he had a birthday. She hopes she got right the first number though, the one that Daddy called nine. She always mixes it up with six.<p>

Before she could press the number one again and then press the green button, Mommy's phone begins to ring loudly again, and Daddy's face reappears on the screen.

She breathes in relief, and taps the wide green button.

"Zola? Are you there?"

"I am, Daddy. I pressed the numbers. I gotsa press the green one now?"

"Yes. Remember, nine, one, and then one again."

"Is nine the one with a circle at the top?"

Before her daddy can answer, the door swings open and Mama is coming out in a bathrobe.

* * *

><p>"Zola?"<p>

Meredith looks puzzled at the lump at her door, the two phones in her hands, Zola's eyes glistening with tears.

"Oh, Mama!" Zola's head snaps towards her, and before she can ask more, her little arms are wrapped tightly around her legs, and Zola is sobbing.

"Hey, what's going on?" Meredith's heart clenches as she holds her daughter and crouches to be at her level. "What's with the tears?" Zola keeps crying and Meredith wipes the tears away with her thumb as she looks at Zola expectantly.

"Momma, are you dying?"

Her eyes widen at the question, and she feels choked up. "What?"

"You maked strange noises and you always throw up and your head hurts lots. You said it's in the simmons."

Meredith pulls Zola into her embrace, rubbing her back, kissing her cheek. "Mama is not dying," she whispers. "I am not dying."

"Are you feeling okay?" Zola's voice is so small and so scared Meredith wants to cry again.

"Mommy is feeling sad sometimes, and sometimes her belly hurts or her head aches, but that doesn't mean I'm dying."

"You no gots cancer?"

Meredith holds onto her daughter for dear life. "No, I don't have cancer. I swear I'm not going to die anytime soon, Lovebug."

"Good, Mama. 'Cause I need you."

The sincerity in her simple statement is like a dagger through her heart. She's stealing her daughter's innocence. She's being the crappiest mother in the history of mothers. At least Ellis did stuff because she didn't care. She can't meet the standards when it comes to motherhood.

"Meredith? Zola? Are you still there?" comes as a croak from the phone, and Meredith would recognize Derek's voice from everywhere.

"Were you on the phone with Daddy?" she asks, releasing Zola from her embrace.

The little girl nods. "I was asking him how to call the three numbers for 'mergencies and he telled me, 'cause he sounded scared too and you gotsa call for the rescue people when you get scared and your mommy and daddy are 'volved."

Meredith picks up her phone from the ground, taking a deep breath before talking to her husband. What the hell is wrong with him?

* * *

><p>"<em>Were you on the phone with Daddy?" <em>He feels an overwhelming sense of relief and also a slight sense of humiliation all at once hearing his wife's raspy voice on the other side. Meredith's okay. She's okay. He can breathe again.

"Derek?" His heart jumps when he realizes she's speaking to him now.

"Meredith, thank God, you're alright."

"Did you tell Zola to call 9-1-1?" Meredith asks tensely, confusion notable in her tone.

"I thought...Zola said you'd been in the bathroom for a long time, Meredith, and you were making funny noises and you weren't answering when she tried to get your attention. What was I supposed to think?!"

"Gosh, I don't know, Derek, that maybe in a four-year-old's mind five minutes feels like five hours? That I was taking a shower, and she heard water running, and I couldn't hear her over the water?" Meredith fuels. She's angry, and he understands why, but he wasn't out of line, as far as he is concerned.

"I'm sorry for being worried about you, Meredith! It's all I do."

"I'm beginning to wonder if you're using me as a test dummy for your research, because you're doing a pretty damn good job at pissing me off."

His heart sinks when she says that. He can't believe she actually thinks that. "Meredith - "

"And why did you tell Bailey I'm pregnant?"

"What?! How do you know that? Did she tell you?" Derek senses a storm brewing, knowing he shouldn't have told Bailey, but it just slipped. Meredith was bound to find out about his slip up sooner or later.

"No, you just told me. I only suspected that she knew. I didn't know if she'd figured it out herself or if someone - you, since I know Amelia wouldn't breech my privacy - told her."

Derek is flabbergasted and disheartened by the fact that she trusts _Amelia _more than she trusts him, but all the same, he doesn't seem to deserve her trust. All he does is disappoint her and break promises.

"I'm sorry, Meredith," he sighs, saying all that he can. "I'm so sorry."

She sighs, and then her voice softens, "It's whatever. Bailey probably would have figured it out on her own, anyway. She has a sixth sense for those kinds of things. Who else have you told, just so I know?"

"No one else. I swear," he assures, _besides a few random strangers_ _on the subway_, but she doesn't need to know that. It's not like she'll ever run into those people.

"Good," Meredith mumbles. She sounds exhausted. He wishes he could hug her.

"Zola said you had owies in your head, and that's why you came home. She also said you've been throwing up a lot. Why does she think you have cancer?" He shivers, thinking about how horrible Meredith must be feeling. He wishes could be there to at least watch the kids for her, so she can take a nap.

The mere thought that his wife could possibly have cancer or any disease and not tell him makes his gut twist into tight knots. He's still upset by the fact that Zola seems to have a clear understanding of cancer symptoms, which means Meredith or Amelia must have discussed it with her, and he doesn't like that one bit. He still needs to find a time to bridge that discussion with Meredith. Now is clearly not the time. They have so much more at stake to discuss.

"I had an early shift today. That's why we're home. Zola must have misunderstood. And I threw up a lot last week, but it's been getting better. Do you really believe everything a four-year-old tells you? Are you that gullible?" Meredith sneers, and he wishes he could believe she's being completely honest, but he can't shake the feeling that there's something more that she's not telling him. Derek senses she's sugarcoating how she's really feeling, so he can relax. He can't relax, though, and he won't until he sees her with his own two eyes, in person.

"So, you don't have a headache?" He hears a sharp cry in the background, presumably his son, and he immediately regrets asking.

"Of course I have a headache! My life is a constant headache. Bailey's up, and he's probably hungry. I have to go, Derek."

"I love you." The words slip out of his mouth; it feels like it's been an eternity since he's spoken those three little words. She needs to hear them, even if he's not expecting her to respond to him. He expects her to hang up.

But she responds, and he's taken aback. "I love you, too, Derek."

He really needed to hear that from her.

His heartache looms heavily in his chest when the call ends. He's relieved that she's alright and a little ashamed of himself because he allowed himself to jump to the worst case scenario. That's not him. Meredith is the dark and twisty one in their relationship. He's supposed to be the optimist.

Derek finds himself feeling anything but optimistic. The fact that a brief conversation with his four-year-old daughter had sent him over the edge, convincing himself that Meredith was lying in the bathroom in harm's way, is vilely gut-wrenching. He's losing it. He's really losing his mind.

_Oh, shit, _he thinks when reality sets in and he sees Bryan still laying on the floor, blood everywhere. He ganders at the man, realizing he's overheard his entire conversation, though may be the least of Derek's concerns.

"Don't think you're going to get away with this," the man sneers, his hand pressed against his forehead, but it's also covered in blood. Derek's insides turn. There aren't paper towels since most of DC is now paperless.

"Oh, shush, I'm a neurosurgeon. I'll stitch you up," Derek says, extending his arm to help the man up. He turns on the faucet and splashes water on the guy's face.

"What are you doing?!"

"Cleaning the wound, so I can see how deep the laceration is," Derek responds matter-of-factly.

"But it's wet!" whines Bryan. _What a child._

"Last time I checked, water is always wet. Stop being such a baby. My four-year-old is more mature than you," Derek retorts, rolling his eyes, thinking of when he had uttered those words to Meredith. God, he regrets that now. What was he thinking? Clearly, he hadn't been.

"You. Hit. Me."

"Boo hoo," mocks Derek, knowing full and well that he's in the wrong here, but what is Bryan going to do? Tattle on him to the president? Seriously. They wanted _him_. This isn't kindergarten. "Maybe you shouldn't have followed me in here."

Tears fester in Bryan's eyes, and Derek just wants to punch him again. "Dude, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. You'd been in here in a while, and you looked like you were about to puke when you left the table."

So he's playing the victim card.

Bryan's wound isn't deep. One or two stitches will fix him right up. He probably doesn't even need stitches, though Derek offers to stitch the guy up anyway out of courtesy. They're a half hour from Bethesda, and his apartment is only ten minutes away. He has all the necessary equipment to stitch up Bryan there.

He steals a few napkins from the table. Barry and Dan are clearly dumbfounded when they see Bryan; Derek can tell they're both dying to ask what happened.

"I, uh, slipped on some water in the bathroom," Bryan explains as Derek glares vengefully at him. _Good boy. _

They depart the restaurant together without further questioning.

Bryan vaguely reminds Derek of Zola once when she fell off the swing on their land. Though, Zola didn't cry as much. Some men never grow up. Some men depend on others to take care of them forever. These men are worse than children.

Derek, too, feels like a child. The way he reacted to Bryan was the way he reacted when Mark taunted him about liking a girl in their third grade class. Then again, it's also how he reacted when Mark told him that he was dating Lexie.

Derek still has a ton of growing up to accomplish himself.

How can he be a father of three when he can barely parent himself?

* * *

><p><strong>Irene's AN: I hope you enjoyed the different POVs in this one, it was a pretty interesting chapter to write. **

**Now, stay safe and keep reading fanfic instead of going out in a storm. Hopefully this is the only storm in your life today ;)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Irene's A/N: We're back! Did you miss us?  
><strong>

**A little warning before everything else, this is going to be intense. Or at least it was intense for me writing it. We decided to give you a shorter chapter and split things up a bit, though the next one will be up soon, it's practically already written, so don't worry. If you prefer shorter chapters, let us know!  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Beep, beep, beep! <em>

_Gah, _Derek groans, slamming his hand against the snooze button, though he knows he can't afford to go back to sleep; as much as he loathes the mere idea of getting out of bed. He's already postponed this meeting twice. He can't afford to postpone it again.

Plus, this meeting is at the _White House_ with the President of the United States himself, which makes it even more prestigious. He can't miss it, and he can't postpone it. It's simply not an option.

His insides roll and his temples throb. He really should have skipped that last round of shots. Jojo's has become his safe haven. He was attracted to the name initially, but after his first solo visit, he fell in love with the venue. The bar and restaurant has live music every night and a menu filled with his favorite classics.

Every night he's at Jojo's he thinks of Meredith. He knows she would have a blast. If she ever comes to DC, he'll make sure to take her there.

Though, he doesn't think she'll be coming to DC any time soon. They've barely spoken since the incident at Capitol Lounge. She hasn't called him first once. He's left her dozens of voicemails that she never returns. When they do talk, their conversations are short and curt. She claims she's been busy at work. He Skyped the kids a few mornings ago when Meredith was apparently working. Amelia was with them.

He's still in regular contact with Amelia regarding Beth. She keeps him up to date on Beth's progress, which isn't as bright and shiny as he'd like it to be. As they both anticipated, the chemo isn't working.

Meredith has barely spoken ten sentences to him these last ten days, and she hasn't told him she loves him since their conversation in the Capitol Lounge bathroom. That's not alarming to him, since they don't tell each other that they love one another nearly as often as they should. He's consciously making a constant effort to tell that he loves her when he leaves her voicemails. He doesn't need to hear it back.

Even though she doesn't always show it or say it, he's pretty sure she still loves him, otherwise she wouldn't have said it at the Capitol Lounge. Meredith may lie to him about a lot of things, but he doesn't think she'd ever lie to him about that. At least he hopes not. He hopes she would never tell him she loves him out of obligation or guilt.

Derek's feet land on the chilly wooden bedroom floor. A shiver jolts up his spine. As soon as he stands up, he wants to fall back into bed. But he can't. He has a vital planning meeting with the President of the United States today, and he can't postpone it again because he's hungover. He might have Obama wrapped around his finger, but he can't take advantage of that for much longer.

_Or he'll lose his job. _Sometimes that doesn't sound like such a bad thing, but then he'll be known as _that _guy - the one the president fired. He's pretty sure Meredith will murder him for good then, if not leave him and take the children with her because she won't want them to associate with their low-life, loser of a dad. Then he'll just be another disappointment for her, as if he isn't a big enough of one to her already.

All he does is disappoint her, when all he wants is for her to be proud of him. He's never enough. He'll never be enough.

His gut tightens with nauseating pain. He wants to crawl back into bed, cover his head with his blanket and go to sleep, but he can't. He's not a little boy anymore, and he can't fake the stomach flu again today.

When he was a child, his mother always knew when he was faking sick to get out of school. She'd always drag him out of bed and make him go, no matter how many excuses or times he tried to fake a stomach ache. Once, when he and Mark were in fifth grade, they'd put the thermometer under the lamp to make the dial go up, so it looked like they had fevers. Carolyn Shepherd was not fooled.

His sickness today goes much deeper than a fake fever. He may not have a fever, but he's definitely hungover. It's even deeper than the hangover, though. After all, it's his other sickness that brought on the hangover.

Derek Shepherd is lovesick.

Growing up, he never understood men who pined after a woman or drank themselves silly after a breakup, or women who stayed in bed after the love of her life left. Now, he understands it completely.

He stares at his reflection in the mirror, sighing and a little glad that he hasn't Skyped Meredith in several days, because she would tell him he needs to shave. And she'd be right. His cheeks are scruffy, and he knows she hates his facial hair. She prefers it to be completely shaved. Personally, he likes having a little facial hair. It keeps his face warm, especially on cold winter days like today.

The days have frittered away being so far from Meredith. He feels famished, exhausted, and useless. The BRAIN Initiative has made virtually zero progress during this time, and he hadn't expected it to. Sure, he has all these cool machines to play with and they provide a substantial amount of data. The problem is he's not _using _that data. Unless they start using the impact data, they're not going to go anywhere. Putting data to use takes time and patience, though. He's well aware of that.

He hasn't had a lot of either time or patience lately.

His watch tells him he has less than thirty minutes to make it to his meeting. _Crap_. With DC traffic, he'll be lucky to make it on time.

Yet, that doesn't stop his thumb from freezing on Meredith's name as he goes to call a cab. She probably won't answer anyway. It'll take him virtually thirty seconds to leave her a quick voicemail, to remind her that he loves her. He carelessly taps her name as he grabs his briefcase and walks out the door.

Two rings. _Two more and then voicemail_. He imagines the sound of her voice, "_You've reached Meredith Grey…"_ "Derek." His heart automatically freezes at the unexpected, but very real, interruption of Meredith's hoarse, delicate voice. There's no questionability in her tone. She knows it's him.

"Meredith." His heart flutters, and a cheesy grin breaks through his lips. It's amazing how simply hearing her speak his name can send a euphoric rush to his brain. His mouth hangs open, trying to find the right words to say. The fact that he's running late for a meeting ceases to matter seamlessly.

"What do you want? I'm about to go into surgery." The tone of her voice is harsh, and he feels his heart crushing into a million little pieces.

"You're scrubbing in at six a.m.?"

"I've been here all night and there was a trauma...Derek, I have to go."

"Please tell me you've had some rest…"

"Derek, I know how to take care of myself. I'm a big girl," she fires back. "I have to go. I'll call you later, okay?"

"I love you."

His insides start to crumble when the line goes dead. She said she'd call him back, so that's something. He misses seeing her face light up his phone and hearing her special ringtone:

"_What's going on in that beautiful mind… I'm on your magical mystery ride." _

John Legend's _All of Me _plays silently in his head. The literal meaning behind the song's lyrics really stick with him this morning.

* * *

><p>He's fifteen minutes late to the meeting. When he enters the room, the president is already sitting at the head of the table, and the chatters dissipate. Everyone's eyes are on Derek.<p>

"Sorry I'm late. Traffic," he says, gruff and loud, taking his seat directly across from the President of the United States.

"Well, we can get started now," announces the president, his lips curving slightly upward into a small grin, his wrinkles creased and blatantly visible. The president looks weary and drained. Something tells Derek he's not the only one who's exhausted. There's a reason Obama looks like he's aged twenty years after being in office only six years.

Derek doesn't know how he does it - run a country. Derek can barely manage his own family, after all. Running the BRAIN Initiative while trying to be a good father and husband from the other side of the country is a whole different story. Thank God he didn't go into politics.

Before another word is uttered, Derek's phone vibrates in his pocket.

He curses his phone keeping him from the meeting, and silences the buzzing. Amelia can call him later. Better, he will call her himself later.

Though the buzzing starts again a second later, but this time it only signals a text message. He receives more than one dirty look as he reads it under the table as if he were a rebellious teenager.

"_Need to talk to you. Important. It's about Beth._" the message says, and his phone almost drops out of his hand.

Was Meredith scrubbing in on Beth's surgery? Why didn't she tell him? Is her condition deteriorating so quickly she already needs surgery? His mind can't stop swirling, and he surely can't focus on the meeting.

"Dr. Shepherd, are we boring you?" the sharp voice of Dr. Hipler, the moderator of the meeting and one of the highest ranked NIH staffers, makes him look up with a sudden jerk of his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm following a case back in Seattle and they need to talk to me urgently. I'll be right back."

He knows it's stupid to walk out, that he's walking on very thin ice today, and yet, he feels like he needs to answer this call, he has to hear how's Beth doing.

Before he can tap Amelia's name on his contacts list, her name flashes on his screen as the phone vibrates in his hand.

"Sorry, I was in a meeting, what's going on?" he uses as a greeting, knowing he doesn't have much time, and yet being impatient to hear more.

"Hey, sorry if I'm bothering the _almighty_ Dr. Shepherd," Amelia snickers, and he takes a deep breath.

He pinches his nose, the hangover headache he had almost dissipated crawling back. "Amy, please, half of the world is already mad at me today, just...get to the point." _Great, now he sounds pathetic even out loud_.

"Derek, it's not good," she says quickly, though he can hear the pity in her voice. He pretends it's not there, focuses on the rest of the speech. "We did another MRI and the tumor is growing even more quickly than we predicted. She's seizing every five to six hours."

"Chemo is not working."

"Nope, but I was expecting that. I can't reach the tumor with a traditional approach either."

Derek swallows the lump in his throat. "What about the trial method I created with Meredith? Has she seen the scans?"

"No, not the latest. We've been here all night and I wanted to give her a little rest after her surgery, she doesn't need to think about Beth too."

"Oh," he feels his voice shaking, knowing that his sister is just looking out for his wife, and yet feeling awful his wife needs somebody to look out for her during this pregnancy.

Things are not supposed to be like this; it should be easier the second time around, they should be able to enjoy every single second with their baby, not living constantly on edge like they did with Bailey. This doesn't feel right one bit.

"Derek, even if Meredith knows how to insert the needles and all that, I'm not sure we can be in perfect sync." There's an edge he doesn't like in Amelia's voice, almost as if she was giving up.

"You need to practice a lot. You can get there."

"Look, I'll mention the results to Meredith later and I can send you the scans, but I don't know, I'm at a loss here." Amelia's sincerity blows him away.

"I'll try to free my schedule and come out for the surgery, maybe a couple of days. I have this meeting today I have to attend, but maybe tomorrow I can reschedule a couple of things and buy some time. I'll be there and back."

"I know how hard it is for you to come, but we really need you here. The kids really miss you too, as well."

He hates that. He hates that she's guilting him into coming back, as if he hadn't already made up his mind the second she proposed it. "Now you sound like Mom."

"Take it back!" Amelia shrieks out of the phone, and he's glad that he can say goodbye to her with a smile.

The smile dies on his lips though as he thinks about Beth. He needs to go back to Seattle, that is non-negotiable.

He resumes his spot in the conference room, winning a lot of disdained looks and a frown from Bryan, but he simply shakes his head.

"Now, since Dr. Wangzhi started his work from negative emotions, we thought that it could be interesting to show you this video. It's from a TED Talk, it's called 'The Power of Vulnerability'. We think that Dr. Brown introduces several interesting points we should investigate in the following steps of our research." Dr. Hipler presses the play button on a full screen, and the lights dim as he moves his chair towards the back of the room to see better.

"_The hard part of the one thing that keeps us out of connection is our fear that we're not worthy of connection."_

He's feeling disconnected on every level these days, disconnected from his job, his family, his friends. His life feels like a jumbled mess of routines that are clashing into one another. Does he feel worthy of connection? Not really. Not today.

"_They believed that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful. They didn't talk about vulnerability being comfortable, nor did they really talk about it being excruciating - as I had heard it earlier in the shame interviewing. They just talked about it being necessary._"

The more the woman on screen talks, the more he feels the words resonate with him, the more he feels like he should be the one giving in to vulnerability. It's crazy how much of this talk he should be applying to his marriage, his life, how much should he follow her advice. It's almost like she's talking directly _to him_.

"_The problem is _- _and I learned this from the research - that you cannot selectively numb emotion. You can't say, here's the bad stuff. Here's vulnerability, here's grief, here's shame, here's fear, here's disappointment. I don't want to feel these. I'm going to have a couple of beers and a banana nut muffin._"

He feels like he used more than a couple of beers to numb his vulnerability. He used scotch and tequila and whatever it was offered to him to try not to feel anything anymore. Did he know it wasn't going to work? Probably. He did it anyway. Now he feels like he should have used banana nut muffins instead, at least his liver wouldn't be overworked. Yet, tequila works so well for numbing. After his first taste, he got used to it. Barry was right, he could drink it straight from the bottle and still pretend it's Meredith he's kissing and not just the neck of José Cuervo.

All the emotions he has tried to repress come blubbering up in his chest, growing into a thick ball that gets stuck in his throat. He's squirming into his seat, feeling a cold sweat run down his spine.

He should have remained numb. Who cares if numbness is pointless? There is a history of addiction in his family, after all. Amelia knows all about addiction and numbness. For the first time, he might understand the reason she turned to drugs.

"_There's no discourse anymore. There's no conversation. There's just blame. You know how blame is described in the research? A way to discharge pain and discomfort. We perfect. If there's anyone who wants their life to look like this, it would be me, but it doesn't work._"

This is exactly what his marriage is like these days. A charade of perfection wrapped into various stages of blame and thick silences. He hates what the love he has for Meredith has become, and yet, he has no clue how to go back, how to extirpate the hatred from what they have left of their relationship, how to make his house feel like a home for his children - born and unborn - and not the house of silence.

He knows there's a lot of pain and a lot of discomfort, especially on Meredith's part now that she's constantly feeling bad because of the baby, and yet, he knows the bigger discomfort is the lack of synchrony they have as of late. They are not comfortable around one another anymore, and he always second-guesses every little gesture when he's around her or talking to her. It's exhausting. Loving Meredith is exhausting most days, and he needs a reminder to why it is worth it as well.

He almost jumps in his seat when his phone vibrates again, and this time, he doesn't let it ring out, because it's Meredith's photo showing up on his screen.

It's the first time in a week and a half she has called first; he needs to answer. Also, if this talk digs even deeper into his own issues he might just burst into tears, and he doesn't need that added to his résumé. There are enough negative notes as it is by this point.

When he excuses himself from the meeting for a second time, he knows he might just have cracked the ice for good, and he doesn't really care.

* * *

><p>He hides in a broom closet, needing the privacy, trying to keep out of sight even more. He needs a moment to be with his wife.<p>

"Mere?" he breathes in the receiver, waiting for her voice, almost anticipating its vibrations.

Nothing reaches his ear.

He listens more carefully, repeating her name, a sudden fear gripping his stomach, making its scarce contents roll around.

"Der - " she says in a croak, and his breathing speeds up as well.

He hears a muffled sob, a moan following suit, and he knows what's going on. He feels it in his bones. He slumps against a shelf, making a few bottles rattle as he slowly crouches on the floor, clutching his phone in his hand, trying to remain calm, though he can feel his heart shatter in his chest.

"Gone...gone, Derek," Meredith hiccups between one sob and the other, making Derek sink even deeper on the floor, until he feels boneless, melting with the tiles.

This is not happening. It can't be happening right now, not when he's on the other side of the country, when he can't be there to hold her hand.

"So much blood, I can't - "

He curls up in a ball, trying to stop his tears to calm down Meredith as well, but he can hear the pain in her voice, the anguish in every syllable. He needs to be strong until the call ends, then he can drop everything and go home to her.

He thinks the President will understand his need to bolt when he'll tell him that his wife just had a miscarriage.

At this point, the job doesn't matter, his work, his research, it can all go to hell, nothing matters more than Meredith and their baby. Their dying baby.

A tear slides down his cheek. "Breathe, Mere, in and out."

It's a futile request. More sobs and tears filter from the earpiece, and he can picture the scene so clearly in his mind that it's almost as if he were there. Except he's not. He's not there with Meredith. He's failing her. He always fails her.

"Hurts, it hurts," she moans, her voice cut off at the end, and he desperately wants to hold her. He wants to kiss her and hug her and never let go of her as they ride through the storm.

He tries to convince himself that it's for the better, that a baby right now would have brought on just more fighting, though nothing seems to matter. Something they have made together is dying, and he can't find a reason to ease his pain. Yet, he needs to ease Meredith's. He has to, because it's his job. It's in their vows.

"Close your eyes," he croaks, clearing his throat. "Do you have a paper bag near you?"

"N-no."

"Doesn't matter." He closes his eyes as well. "Imagine that I'm there, right next to you. Are you sitting down?"

"Yes," her voice is shaking, her breaths labored, though he knows her eyes are closed.

"Good."

"It hurts."

"I know. Slow down. Take slow deep breaths."

"So much blood, I can't, I can't, I can't." Her sobs escalate.

"You can. I'm there, right next to you. This is me, rubbing your back, in slow, round circles, just the way that makes you feel better." It's his breathing that is becoming more regular the more he talks, though his heart is still in shambles.

"Can't - "

"I'm holding you now. Your cheek is on my shoulder and your hand is in mine. I'm right there with you, Meredith. I'm not going anywhere."

The sobs seem to slow down a little, though her breathing is still labored.

"Okay, breathe in with me," he instructs, taking a deep breath, then releasing it. "In, and then out."

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He can almost feel her phantom weight on his shoulder, her trembling hand in his, her body fitting perfectly into his side. They are not saying anything to one another, they are on two different ends of the country, and yet this is probably the closest they have been in months.

The whole concept of vulnerability is a fleeting thought in his brain, slowly replaced by the even breaths coming from the other side, a few sniffles here and there, even fewer gulps.

His eyes are still closed.

"Now I'm wiping away your tears, kissing your forehead; your lips; your cheeks." She's the most beautiful vision, even considering the circumstances. He doesn't want to wake up from this, go back to the reality where his baby is dying and he's missing a meeting that might change his professional career forever. He wants to remain in the closet with his virtual Meredith forever.

"Thank you," her voice is a tentative whisper, but it does heal a couple of wounds in his heart. Yet, the deepest one is still hemorrhaging.

"For better or for worse," he says, and her breaths hitch, and not because of her tears.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: Before you kill us, the next chapter is already written and will be out within the week. We won't leave you for weeks with that** **cliffhanger. What do you think? Is Meredith really miscarrying? Derek's emotions were definitely running wild this chapter. He has a lot to think about.**

**Also, I encourage you all to check out the TED Talk mentioned in this chapter. It's called **_**The Power of Vulnerability, **_**given by Brené Brown. You can find it on ted dot com. We'll be referring to it in subsequent chapters as well.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Irene's A/N: See, we were pretty quick, right? ;)  
><strong>

**Now, what will it be? Is Meredith miscarrying or not? Read on to find out!  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

* * *

><p>"<em>For better or for worse," he says, and her breaths hitch, and not because of her tears.<em>

* * *

><p>They share another long beat of silence, trying to recover their composure, though Derek feels all his resolutions crumble. Reality is setting in, and he hates it. He wants to get off this stupid carousel. But he's glued to its floor, and he can't do anything about it.<p>

It's Meredith who breaks the quiet, after taking a deep breath: "God, I'm sorry, you were probably working, I'm - "

"You come first. You and the kids always come first." He needs to swallow the lump in his throat at the mention of his children. "Are you okay?"

"I think so. I will be okay in a few minutes."

He feels like he has been punched. "You should go home. You don't need to work." She has been at the hospital the whole night, and he doesn't want to blame her for what is happening, but the urge to just blurt it out is increasing. He doesn't know if he's more mad or heartbroken. Right now his brain is swirling, and his headache is definitely coming back.

"I'm going to take it easy for the rest of the day. I only have a couple of short surgeries scheduled, then I'll go home and spend time with the kids. I wasn't hyperventilating, I just needed a minute." Her voice gets an edge, the same edge she had with him for the past week, and he wants to go back.

"Maybe you should see a doctor." He regrets the words as soon as they slip out of his lips. He would have been with her the whole time if he were there, now a stranger needs to know about this. Maybe someone that already knows can help her. He now realizes how stupid it was to tell so many people. She was right, she's always right.

"What?" she snaps fiercely, not a hint of tears there. "For a closet breakdown?"

"You're...bleeding. And hurting." Saying the word will make it real. It can't be real. He can't make it real. She's the only one that can make it real.

"Bleeding? I'm not bleeding. My _patient _was bleeding. Everywhere. I got blood all over my shoes. My _favorite _pair of Converse are ruined. And my back hurts, but that's normal, I was in surgery, I'm growing a person inside of me, of course my back hurts."

His jaw hangs open for a second before he blurts: "You're not miscarrying?"

"What? Of course not!" He can almost see her roll her eyes at him. "Your spawn is definitely still inside me, and it hopefully doesn't have a penis."

He lets out a breath he had no idea he was holding, almost laughing at the irony of it all. "Good. That's great!"

"You don't want another mini-you? That's fine with me. Two stupid penises in this family are more than enough. First yours gets me pregnant, then your son has no clue how to use his and pees everywhere. I need a break from all the penises. Penises and I don't get along these days."

He has no idea if he's laughing out of the mere hilarity of her ramble or for the sheer joy that they still have a baby on the way, he just knows that when he can finally gather his wits, he can hear Meredith sniffle again.

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I'm just so happy all the mental images I had in my head were just part of my imagination running wild." He gulps down another laughter that is threatening to blubber out of him.

"Glad you find my penis issues amusing."

"I don't, I swear. I just...I'm glad our baby is still inside of you. Even if it has a penis."

Meredith scoffs, then the conversation gets a lull. It's still nice for Derek to be in contact with Meredith, even if they're exchanging nothing but static through the phone.

"Why were you so upset then, if nothing is wrong with the baby?"

"Beth's chemo is not working, her seizures are more frequent and Amelia seems lost. I just talked to her, and I guess all of my build up of emotions just exploded. Stupid hormones."

He chuckles. Hormones are good. "Yeah, she called me right before you did."

"Oh."

"I'll try to free up my schedule and come check on her, but I'm not making any promises." He doesn't want to make any more empty promises to her.

"Good. So maybe Zola will stop thinking that we have split up like Callie and Arizona."

"What?" his eyes widen.

"She asked me this morning, when I visited them in daycare." He swallows thickly. "I tried to explain it to her, then luckily Bailey dropped his pants and we had to make a mad dash to the bathroom, so she forgot about it." He can hear her take a deep breath. "Also, I lost a patient. He was young and he had two kids, a third on the way. I swear, they must have been Zola and Bailey's age, and his wife..."

Derek understands perfectly now, the picture is clearer than daylight in his mind. The patient was the last drop before it all came crashing down, and hormones weren't definitely helping matters. He's glad he could be there to pick up some of the pieces this time.

"What if in a few months I get a call that you've been in an accident and I need to fly to DC because you're dying? I just...I can't do it alone. I can't."

"I know," he reassures, wishing more than anything that he could be next to her, touch her and make her feel his presence. Words have to do for the moment. "I wonder the same thing sometimes, you know?"

"Derek, - "

"I'm not going to leave you to raise our children alone, even if I'm on the other side of the country. You don't have to do it alone."

Meredith takes a deep breath but doesn't reply. He hopes he was convincing enough, that she doesn't need more to be okay for the moment. He can't give her more. He's too far away. The urge to go home now is stronger than ever, and he's glad that he now has Beth as an excuse to spend some time with his family. He needs to go home and be with them, even if it's only for a few hours. He has to go home.

"I'm sorry if I kept you from whatever you were doing."

"Meeting. I have to get back, though," he admits reluctantly. His watch tells him he has been hiding out in the closet for almost twenty minutes. His colleagues are going to kill him, but he doesn't really care. If those twenty minutes made Meredith feel better, he's glad he gave them to her. He wouldn't trade them back for anything.

"I know, I'm - "

"Don't apologize. I wanted to be here with you. Don't worry for a second. If I couldn't answer, I wouldn't have."

"I'm glad you did."

Her sincerity blows him away. "Me too." Then, in the spirit of showing some of his vulnerability - hoping that Brené Brown could be proud - he adds: "I love you."

He can hear his heart hammering in his chest before she replies "I love you too. I'll talk to you later."

He remains seated on the closet floor for a minute longer, a silly grin on his face, his body feeling like jelly, his mind empty.

* * *

><p>Meredith feels indisposed and too lethargic to think clearly as she exits the supply closet she's been hiding in. The pain stings. It stings so bad that she can't ignore it any longer.<p>

She feels bad for calling Derek. Really, she does. She doesn't know what she was thinking. Hell, she surely didn't think she would lead Derek onto think _she miscarried_. That was not in her plans at all.

All she wanted was to hear his voice, and she'd got that, even if in return she'd sent unfathomable thoughts to his wild imaginative, brainless-at-times brain.

How she hasn't miscarried yet is beyond her realm of information. She's done everything the doctor told her not to do, besides have sex. She's really not _trying _to miscarry, but it's not like she has a freaking choice with her husband on the other side of the country.

Her face is still damp and her thoughts are fuzzy from the ocean of tears gushing from her tear ducts. Meanwhile, she scurries into the lounge. She wants to fall into Derek's arms and never get back up. But she can't, because Derek is in DC, and she's here in Seattle. It's all her fault. Everything is her fault.

And she can't even have a glass tequila to numb the pain. As a result, she feels everything in full force. She gawks at her pathetic reflection in the mirror and takes off her white coat, folding it in her arms.

She thinks of the patient she's just lost. She's lost hundreds of patients over her surgical career, and each and every one of them has affected her in one way or another. Losing a patient never gets easier. Looking death in the eye, knowing that you've just lost a life in your hands, is never easy. That's why, as a doctor, you have to separate yourself from the case emotionally, or you'll end up losing yourself. The best doctors are the ones who can completely separate themselves from their patient, while remaining compassionate.

Her mother was a good doctor. Meredith never worked with Ellis Grey personally, but from reading her journals, watching her Harper Avery speech, and knowing all that she knows about her mother, she knows she was a good doctor. Surely, _she _wouldn't have a mental breakdown after losing a patient.

No, but she tried to kill herself after the love of her life left her.

Love: It's complicated. It makes you do silly things, things you didn't even know you were capable of doing.

It's not _just_ the patient on her mind this afternoon, though. He was an otherwise healthy thirty-four-year-old man, before he became the victim of a random hit-and-run on his way to work that morning.

_So much blood. _There had been so much blood. She was a surgeon, so she was used to blood. The man's intestines had spilled everywhere: All over the gurney, her scrubs, and even her shoes. He bled out right before her eyes, and she couldn't save him, despite her intense efforts.

She stares at her feet. She's already changed into a fresh pair of scrubs, but blood splotches have permanently stained her favorite pair of Converse.

He was a dentist, a handsome man who leaves behind a beautiful wife and two angelic daughters, ages six and three. Meredith recollects the picture of the two precious little girls crying for their daddy in the waiting room, clinging onto their mother's hands. His wife is eight months pregnant with their third child, finally a boy, who will never have a chance to meet his father.

The woman's distraught expression when Meredith told her that they'd done everything they could is permanently implanted in her brain, as well as the woman gripping ahold of her swollen belly, desperately crying out for help and shrieking that she can't do it alone.

Meredith doesn't know how she can do it alone.

Adding fuel to the fire, Zola asked this morning if Daddy and Mommy were broken up like Sofia's mommies. It was an innocent question in Zola's glorified wide brown eyes, but she'd managed to break Meredith's heart into a million little pieces when the question had escaped her daughter's sweet lips.

And then there's Beth. Oh sweet Beth. She is too young to die. It's not fair. Life is not fair. She and Derek saved her. The tumor wasn't supposed to return. But alas, it had. And now she's having seizures every couple hours, and there's nothing she can do, and the only Shepherd neurosurgeon in Seattle seems to be at a loss.

She hasn't known Amelia for very long. In the time she's gotten to know her, though, she's realized that she's not like Nancy or Liz, the other sisters she's had the _pleasure_ of meeting in person, yet it's very apparent that she idolizes Derek. She tries to be as good as him, and she comes off as a little egotistical at times, very much like her older brother. Seeing Amelia this frightened scares Meredith more than she wants to admit. The last time she saw this level of fear on a Shepherd's face was the last time she and Derek operated on Beth.

_It was supposed to be the last time. They were supposed to have finally gotten it right._

Everything in her life is crumbling into pieces. She desperately wants to call Derek back, but she can't. She's already bothered him enough for one day.

Meredith sucks in a deep breath of stale lounge air, humming softly to distract herself from her own thoughts:

"_I'm havin' a bad, bad day. _

_It's about time that I get my way. _

_Steam rollin' whatever I see. _

_Huh, despicable me." _

Her humming is apparently louder than she is aware that it is, because it's not long before she recognizes a voice behind her. "_Despicable Me_, eh?"

Meredith's body jerks in a half-circle when the deep sound of Alex Karev's voice vibrates against her eardrum. She faces her long-time friend, the closest thing she has to a person now that Cristina is halfway around the world in Zurich and Derek is off mapping brains in DC. Yet, she and Alex have barely spoken in three weeks, since her schedule has been such chaos.

And then there's the concerned look he has had on his face every time they've seen each other since the little pizza party. He knows there's something she's not telling him. Alex Karev knows her too well for his own good.

Sure, she could tell him about the pregnancy. He is her person now. Even so, she didn't tell Cristina that she was pregnant until the second trimester. It's not that she doesn't trust he'll keep her secret. So many people already know, though, and she knows she'll have to start disclosing sooner rather than later.

She's more than eight weeks along now, and she caught Amelia gaping at her stomach yesterday morning during breakfast when she wore a tight-fitting shirt. Immediately, she'd rushed to change into something looser. The bump is there. It's small, still invisible underneath her scrubs, but it's there.

She didn't start showing with Bailey until she was almost fourteen weeks. It's normal to start showing earlier during the second pregnancy, though, and she hates that fact. _As long as it's not twins. _Nope, the sonogram made it clear as day that there's only one blob inside her.

Her eight-week appointment is in a couple days, so she'll get to hear her blob's heartbeat then. Hearing the heartbeat will make this pregnancy an actual reality.

She remembers how excited Derek was when they first heard Bailey's heartbeat, and how scared she was. The idea of hearing this baby's heartbeat for the first time without Derek by her side really frightens her. It feels like a bad omen.

Alex has a corny grin on his face, and Meredith can't help but feign a small smile.

"_Despicable Me_...Zola's current favorite movie obsession," Meredith explains truthfully. She bought the DVD a couple weeks ago, thinking she and the kids needed a movie night together to make up for Daddy being away. Little did she know how much Zola would fall in love with the movie she selected. Zola even managed to coerce her aunt to buy her the soundtrack, so she's had the movie _and _the soundtrack on constant repeat for the last two weeks. It's no wonder why Meredith can't get the stupid theme song out of her head.

"Ah," Alex nods, moving closer to her. "Well, I can see why. Isn't that movie about three orphans?"

"It is," Meredith confirms, swallowing the build-up of salt in her mouth. Her stomach rolls. God, she's starving. She knows it's bad that she can't remember her last actual meal. Earlier, she remembers snacking on a banana. The baby seems to love potassium, which isn't a bad thing. The baby also loves lemons, because MetroMint Lemon water has become her saving grace.

"But seriously, sounds to me like you've been spending too much time watching kids' movies," Alex snickers, taking off his white coat and folding it across his forearm. "You look like you need a night out."

"Alex, I can't…I have to pick up the kids. Amelia and I were here all night last night, and I promised the babysitter she could have tonight off since she's spent three nights this week at my house already, and I can't find another babysitter on such short notice." Plus, she knows there's no way she and Alex will be able to go out without him finding out for a fact that she's pregnant.

"It's Arizona's night with Sofia, so I'm sure she won't mind two more rugrats to look after," Alex shrugs, basically volunteering Arizona to babysit.

Meredith laughs then rolls her eyes. "Have you already talked to Arizona about that, then?"

"She won't mind," Alex says confidently; Meredith rolls her eyes in response.

"You can't just say that without actually talking to her, Alex. It's wrong to make assumptions like that. I don't want to drop my kids on Arizona just because you say she won't mind. What if she does mind?" Meredith cringes, _Stupid, dumb men. _Who are they to think it's okay to assume a woman will do something without asking her first?

She tartly remembers how Derek was so confident she would fine with packing her bags and moving to DC. He didn't even consult with her! He made the decision for her. She's still bitter over that, even though their current problems are far deeper than Derek making decisions without her. Their current issues likely stem from that, though, even if it was just the beginning.

No, the beginning of this mess was Derek breaking his promise to step back. That was the beginning. Everything else spiraled out of that. Then he made decisions without her, and now here they are, living on separate coasts and barely speaking cohesively.

Alex shrugs. "Well, you made me _your person _without my permission, and I don't remember saying it was all right to jump in bed with me and kick my girlfriend out. That didn't stop you."

_Oh, he didn't. _Her blood boils. "If you didn't want to be my person, all you had to do was say so. You're the one that said Cristina left me for you or whatever."

"She also left me her board seat, and look how that turned out," Alex notes, shrugging.

Meredith rolls her eyes. Her stomach twists. She's pretty sure she can't feel any crappier than she feels right now. "Look, if you don't -"

"- Dude, shut up. I'm giving you crap. I don't mind being your person or whatever you want to call me. I do mind you hopping in bed with my girlfriend and me at four in the morning. I know you did that crap with Cristina all the time…"

Meredith relents, realizing Alex has a point. "Actually, she did it with Derek and me. I don't remember ever kicking Hunt or Burke out of bed. After all, I'm sure Hunt would have used his rifle on me." A tiny smirk breaks through her lips.

"Hunt has a rifle?"

"I don't know, probably," Meredith shrugs. Hunt was in the United States Army, after all.

"Maybe I'll tell Jo to get one, then."

"Okay, I haven't showed up at your house at four a.m. since Derek moved to D.C.," Meredith notes, adding a fast eyeroll at the end.

"Hey, Derek has to come home sooner or later. He's the almighty family man, right? When's he due, so I can plan accordingly?"

Meredith sucks in a deep breath. "I don't know for sure. He says he's going to try to come back to help Amelia with Beth, but he can't promise that. Of course he can't. His contract is up in a few weeks, but it'll be too late for Beth by then, and who knows if they'll want to extend his contract or not."

She's succumbed by sadness just thinking about how long Derek's DC voyage might end up being. She's positive the NIH will want to extend his contract. Why wouldn't they? She knows her husband is one of the best, it's one of the reasons she married him. She didn't know at the time that would be the issue that would pull them apart.

"Oh." He pulls out his phone and taps his thumbs against the screen.

"Who are you calling?" she asks, dumbfounded. Surely Alex wouldn't be calling Derek, would he?

"Arizona," Alex answers matter-of-factly.

_Oh._

* * *

><p>Derek creeps back in the conference room after recomposing himself, grimacing when the door shuts exactly when Dr. Hipler starts talking. The look he gives him could kill.<p>

He sits back in his chair, trying to let his mind stop spinning and hide into the upholstery, become invisible so that he could recover after the intense conversation with his wife. Sure, his mind is a little more at ease now that she reached out to him, but he's still plagued by the million what-ifs. He could make a pretty interesting test subject right about now.

Dr. Hipler and Dr. Wangzhi talk for a while, and he listens with half of his usual concentration, focusing the other half to take deep, deep breaths and quell the swirling.

They talk about all the new machines, the studies, the research, and Derek, even with his lack of focus, feels like they are just talking in circles, trying to avoid the elephant in the room: the fact that they still have nothing.

Research is tricky that way; he remembers all the trials he has assisted to and conducted himself, and it's always a waiting game. You never know if the next step will bring on greatness and the solution to all the problems, or it might make the whole castle of cards crumble.

All of a sudden he's tired of the uncertainty.

He has felt that uncertainty deep into his bones for twenty minutes straight, and he wants to forget about it. He wants answers, right now.

Great, now he sounds like Zola.

He rubs his temples with his thumb and forefinger, trying to pay a little more attention to the conversation happening around the room, trying to keep his senses alert to give his own input. He does need to redeem himself after all he has done today.

Dr. Mendoza intervenes, his turn to lay on the table his research, this time discussing positive emotions and their effects on the human body.

Everything sounds so amazing, and yet, there's not even a single concrete thing being discussed here at this meeting.

"The goal here is a whole new playing field, whole new ways of thinking," Dr Hipler explains with a little too much excitement.

"It's hard to do that when you're brainless morons," Derek mutters, but it's clearly audible in the silence that falls in the room.

Faces turn towards him, every single one of them looking at him as if he had grown two heads and a tail. Maybe he has horns as well? The way Dr. Hipler looks at him might suggest that. He rubs his scruffy beard and takes a deep breath.

"Care to share with the group what you said, Dr. Shepherd?" Dr. Hipler asks dryly.

"I said that you're brainless morons if you think that anything that has been discussed here has any use in the research," he echoes, feeling like he's channeling his wife now, arguing against the Harper Avery Foundation when Cristina didn't win her award. Being away from Meredith is surely making him sound and act like her. He's not sure if it's a healthy coping mechanism, but at this point it's hard to take back his words, and he doesn't even want to.

"Dr. Shepherd!"

"Honestly, the foundations are wobbly at best, everything is built on hypothesis, how can you give people chances when you don't know anything yourselves? I've conducted trials, and believe me, who comes knocking at your door is desperate, you could sell them sugar water and they'd pay millions for it."

"That's why we're doing - "

"What? Talking about machines nobody has the money to buy? Researching stuff that is only in its embryonal stages? I don't want to sell any sugar water to anyone these days."

"Dr. Shepherd, this is beyond unprofessional, - " It's Dr. Mendoza who speaks up now, standing up from his chair in indignation.

"Aren't we here to discuss this? I'm simply stating my opinion. And I still stand by the fact that you're all idiots."

"Dr. Shepherd, my office, right now." President Obama shuts him up with a single motion of finger as he stands up, making Derek feel a lot smaller, deflating all his fire. "The meeting is over, since apparently for Dr. Shepherd we are all here just losing our precious time instead of conducting serious medical research," he says with an edge in his voice, making Derek take a deep breath.

Chairs scratch on the floor, a rustle of papers and zippers and capping pens fills the room, while Derek is the only one that remains seated in his spot, head held high, holding up a staring contest with both the president and Dr. Hipler.

As the room empties and Dr. Mendoza shuts the door behind his back, it's clear that they don't need to migrate to the Oval Office for this. The president sits at the short end of the table, Dr. Hipler at his right, while Derek remains in his seat in the middle of the long conference table, waiting for the sword to fall on his neck.

He knows he crossed a line, but he's fed up with the political tiptoeing around things he has tried to tolerate from the moment he came to DC.

"Dr. Shepherd, when I hand-picked you for this job I never expected you to be such a difficult person to deal with. Your recommendations were stellar, and yet, you're behaving like a child."

When Obama talks, Derek sinks back into his chair, gulping in silence, taking in the hit.

"You only caused me problems from the moment you stepped foot into DC. We barely see you at meetings, you insult your subordinates and your peers in this research, you seem to want nothing to do with this project, - "

"Mr. President, I apologize for my unprofessional behavior. I've been dealing with a few personal issues, but I hope I can resolve them quickly."

"Dr. Shepherd, I understand that family is important, but this is our last warning. I don't want to have a meeting like this one ever again."

"I understand, Mr. President."

"Good." Obama nods, still looking at Derek sternly. "I have to suspend you for at least three days. Finish up whatever you have going on then tomorrow you go home, you handle your family issues, then please come back with your head one hundred percent into the game."

"Yes, sir."

The two men stand up and walk out of the room, leaving Derek with only his thoughts. It went better than he expected. Now he can go home, treat Beth and then come back until the end of his contract, then go from there.

He takes a deep breath as he leans his head on the table. He just hopes he hasn't screwed up anything with his blunt comment.

* * *

><p><strong>Nicole's AN: We know you're sad about Patrick missing episodes while he's in DC; we're sad too. So we've given you lots of Derek's point of view, since it sounds like we won't be seeing Derek's POV when he's in DC on the show. :( I trust that Shonda has a vision, though, and it will all work out in the end. Until then, fanfic will hopefully help fill the void. **


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